


...next time?

by vands88



Category: Campaign (Podcast), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: ??? Leenik, Asexual Leenik, Asexuality, Catfishing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Demisexual Leenik, Episode Related, Everybody Loves Leenik, Evil Campaign, Fake Marriage, Flirting, Fluff, Lyn & The Boys, Multi, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory Negotiations, Shower Sex, Tryst Can't Read, Tryst Valentine: Sex Criminal (TM), accidental fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-01-05 11:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 42,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vands88/pseuds/vands88
Summary: Collection of fills from the ospnkinkmeme, requests, & other bits and pieces.Ships & ratings in chapter titles. Prompts & warnings at start of each chapter.





	1. Sexting - Aava/Tryst - E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Tryst gets Aava's private comm number. Sexting and dick pics ensue. Prefer a dom Aava, definitely enjoying Tryst's messages and encouraging him while possibly being a little withholding herself."
> 
> Which I basically took to mean PHONE SEX #sorrynotsorry
> 
> Warnings: D/s (Dom!Aava and Sub!Tryst)
> 
> ([DW](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=516#cmt516))

The ship is dark and quiet and Aava's about to retire for the night when her comm pings with a new message. 

  
She groans, annoyed, because it's bound to be Blue or some other suit giving her some dumbass orders. But... no. This is... something else.  
  
She squints at the displayed holopic from an unknown number for a second before managing to place just exactly who that square patch of smuggler jacket belongs to.  
  
This is... interesting. Very interesting.   
  
_Trystan_ , she replies - via text because there's no way she's giving Zero the opportunity to eavesdrop on the conversation -  _Since when do you have my comm number?_  
  
She likes to think she can feel him panic and drop his comm in that dirtbag they call a spaceship even from here before he hurriedly replies:  _It was an accident?_  
  
_Naturally,_  she replies, because whether he's referring to the accidental shot of his person or the incident itself which resulted in him finding her number to begin with, it was no doubt unintentional, as everything with Tryst Valentine is.   
  
She should have Zero trace the number. The crew of the Mynock are too idiotic to realise they've left themselves vulnerable. Again.  
  
But... Aava thinks, as she slinks into her bunk, it's been a while since she's had some fun.  
  
She smirks into the darkness and replies,  _If you're going to be sending me holopics of your body, Trystan, you may as well make them naked ones._  
  
She imagines him spluttering over her response, maybe even getting a little flushed, a little hard, and it gives her great joy.  
  
_...What?_  
  
_You heard me Trystan._  
  
And if she knows Tryst at all, that will do it for him. She stretches back against the sheets, ankles crossed, head pillowed on her hands, and her silk nightie stretched out between the two, and waits.   
  
Tryst must be even more desperate than she imagined because it doesn't take long.   
  
It's a picture of his painted toenails. They're an adorable mess of glossy red paint and haphazard sparkles that either the five-year-old member of their crew has crafted, or the idiot that is Tryst Valentine himself.  _Naked enough for you?_  is the accompanying text. He thinks he's so kriffing clever.   
  
_Cute. Now show me your dick._  
  
_Are you this bossy with all your playdates?_  
  
_You didn't seem to mind it last time. Now, dick._    
  
Tryst is the mouthiest sub she's ever met, but he's still a sub alright. He'll play along, she knows.   
  
A moment or two passes. She closes her eyes, lets her own hand wander as she begins to imagine his fingers unbuttoning his clothes, wrapping around his penis, twisting his nipple in that way that makes him gasp...  
  
Her comm pings. It's his dick, thank Force, but depressingly flaccid.  
  
Aava sighs and begrudgingly removes her hand from her panties to text back,  _Don't disappoint me unless you don't want me._  
  
It takes only seconds for a flurry of apologises to come through, and a minute later, a much improved holopic appears.   
  
_Good boy. Keep touching yourself for me. Send me a picture of your come when you're done. You have three minutes._  
  
This time it's a call that comes through. She should have known that the boy couldn't follow simple instructions.   
  
"What?" she drawls. "Was I not clear?"  
  
"You're not going to help me with this?!"   
  
"I think you've got it," she says calmly. "Two minutes, thirty five seconds."  
  
He groans and she hangs up before she even hears the end of it. She won't give him the satisfaction of knowing that his cute little frustrated groan went straight to her groin. It did though, and she lets out a little whimper, imagining just how frustrated he must be now and all the little sounds he must be making. She's embarrassingly turned on from the thought.   
  
She tries to keep an eye on the time but it gets increasingly difficult as she resumes touching herself to the thought of Tryst doing the same. She knows this must be driving him crazy and, in turn, it drives her crazy. Her pleasure is building, and building, and then just ten seconds before her time limit is up, a message comes through.   
  
Oh, Force, it's beautiful.  
  
It's a shot of Tryst's bare, come-streaked chest, his ribs protruding as if caught on a sharp inhale and blurred as if taken by still-shaking hands. He must only just have come.  
  
Aava groans as she's caught by a sudden wave of pleasure and finds herself riding an intense orgasm, eyes glued to the sight of Tryst's blurry holopic.   
  
She comes back to herself a minute later, swearing under her breath repeatedly, as her eyes open and adjust to the darkness. That had no right to feel so kriffing good.  
  
On her comm is an unopened message -  _Did I do good?_  
  
It's pathetic how her heart jumps a little at his need for reassurance. He can be so good for her when he wants to be.  
  
_Yes, sweetheart. You did so good._  And then, in a moment of foolish bravery, she adds,  _Send me another tomorrow._  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. For those concerned that Tryst can spell, he totally has a speech-to-text converter. TOTALLY.
> 
> P.S.S. I have no idea how Star Wars comms work but I figured you guys are here for the porn and care as little as I do.


	2. Sweet First Time - Tryst/Leenik - E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Leenik is demisexual and never felt sexually attracted to someone... until that fateful kiss at BHIKKE. He's at a loss how to proceed until Tryst --still tactless and obnoxious as ever--walks him through that particular brand of intimacy with surprising care and empathy. Can be an established relationship, or whatever the filler prefers."
> 
> ([DW](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=7428#cmt7428))

Kissing Tryst changes  _everything_. It feels like Leenik's entire being has caught alight, inside and out. He feels like he's dying. No, rising. Both. Like a phoenix. It changes  _EVERYTHING_.  
  
But the worst part is that it doesn't seem to change anything for Tryst. He shrugs it off, continues the mission, and carries on as if the entire galaxy hasn't just changed forever. Maybe for him, it hadn't.   
  
Leenik goes off the rails a little at BHIKKE and in his saner moments, he knows it. He also knows that it's not totally unconnected to Tryst's apathy.   
  
A couple of insane weeks later, things calm down, and Leenik finds himself wandering the new passages of the new Mynock listlessly. The quiet has allowed his depression to settle in and it's impossible not to think about Agent Zero, and Chartreuse, and Tryst's turned head. He wishes himself back a month ago when he had a hand, and a clean conscience, and wasn't painfully in love with Tryst Valentine.   
  
He wishes it so hard that he almost thinks it's happened when he walks into the cockpit to find Tryst dozing in the pilot's chair and not lounging in his new quarters as he's taken to doing. Although, on closer inspection, he's not sleeping at all, just staring vacantly at the passing stars.   
  
Leenik gets that.   
  
He wordlessly lowers himself into the co-pilot's chair. Tryst grunts an acknowledgement but doesn't move otherwise, still staring, literally, out into space.   
  
They sit in companionable silence for a while. Leenik tries not to be too obvious about looking at Tryst in the reflection. He misses him sometimes even when he's right in front of him. It makes no sense. He's so beautiful and Leenik doesn't know how he didn't notice before.  
  
"Space is space, you know?"   
  
"Yeah," Leenik says. Anyone else on the crew wouldn't understand but Leenik does - Tryst is saying that he finds comfort in some things staying the same. No matter how crazy the galaxy gets, there will always be stars. The ship may have changed, but space is still space.   
  
"I like you, Leenik."  
  
Leenik's heart jumps before he realises that Tryst is only talking about their shared understanding. "I, er, like you too, Tryst."  
  
Tryst rolls his eyes and Leenik has to look away because it breaks his heart a little. They're a joke. To Tryst, they're a kriffing joke.   
  
A second later, he hears the pilot's chair creak with its new leather and Leenik peers up to see Tryst craning his neck over the back, checking the door. They're alone in the cockpit though, everyone else is asleep. Well, except for Bacta, but he's still fawning over the new dojo.   
  
"Can we be honest for a minute here?"  
  
And this time it's Leenik that resists rolling his eyes because Tryst has never understood the concept of honesty, let alone ever suggested it.  
  
"Sure," Leenik says, downtrodden, and masking it by propping his boots up on the dash, because whatever Tryst has got to say, it's probably not going to be good for him. It's probably something like:  _I know you have a crush on me, it's silly and embarrassing,_  or  _I don't want to be friends anymore, you made it weird,_  or,  _Isn't this new ship ugly?_.   
  
"I know you have a crush on me-"  
  
Leenik burrows down into the chair, his chin disappearing under the collar of the oversized sweater he stole from Bacta and his eyes fixed to the blinking console. He will never be more embarrassed than he is right now. He wants to punch a hole in the windshield and send them both out into the cold vacuum of space before Tryst can finish this sentence.  
  
"-and I'm sorry I've been a real dick about it."  
  
And...  _what?_  
  
Leenik glances over at Tryst, not trusting his ears for one minute because Tryst  _never_  apologises, not for anything.   
  
Tryst looks back at him, unsettlingly unfazed. He's telling the truth.  
  
"Oh," is all Leenik can manage.  
  
"Truth is..."   
  
Leenik watches as Tryst twists his fingers in his lap. He can't recall ever seeing him so nervous. He itches to cover his hand with his own, to reassure him, but resists.   
  
Tryst sighs and looks over at Leenik, holding his gaze. "Truth is, I really liked kissing you."  
  
Leenik forgets how to breathe. He feels himself flush. His heartrate picks up. And a minute later, he manages to exhale another, "Oh."  
  
"Yeah..." Tryst says, like he's embarrassed, and looks back out at the passing stars.   
  
Leenik has no idea what to say. He's still coming down from the high. His heart is beating so loud, he thinks Tryst must be able to hear it across the cockpit. "Do you...?" he starts, and, yes, this is a good sentence, "Do you want to kiss me again?"  
  
He watches Tryst lick his lips and something stirs deep in his stomach.  _Force, he's so beautiful._  Tryst nods and then turns towards him, his eyes dark with lust and growls, "I want to do more than kiss you."  
  
Leenik's breath catches. If his life was a cartoon, his heart would be beating out of this chest. He was dying again. Aflame. Phoenix. The whole shebang. "Oh," he manages, ever so elegantly, once again. "I've never..."  
  
"I know," Tryst says, and his eyes don't leave Leenik's. "I'm asking if you want to."  
  
The truth is, Leenik's never wanted sex before but he's also never felt like this before. He's paralysed by indecision. He knows Tryst's reputation. He boasts about his conquests. He's not going to be patient, or slow, or be okay with just cuddling if Leenik backs out. But also... there's a fire building in the pit of his stomach that's never been there before and he really wants to chase it and see where it goes. It feels  _exciting_.   
  
Slowly, Leenik nods.  
  
Tryst gives a sly grin before leaning over and cupping Leenik's jaw. Leenik startles slightly, not expecting Tryst to just jump straight to it, but then Tryst pauses there, just stroking his cheek with his thumb and looking into Leenik's eyes. For a minute, Leenik feels like the heroine on the front of one of Neemo's romance novels, especially when Tryst leans in close to place a soft kiss on Leenik's lips and his eyes flutter closed.   
  
"I'm gonna take such good care of you," Tryst whispers against his lips. "Okay? You're my best friend. I love you. You tell me if there's something you don't like and I'll stop, okay? No questions asked."  
  
Leenik's heart melts a little, and he places his hands over Tryst's on his cheeks, trying to get a hold of himself. He takes a deep breath for courage, nods his head, and without thinking about it another second, pushes his lips against Tryst's. 

Tryst immediately deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue past Leenik's lips, and cradling the back of his head to hold Leenik close. Leenik falls out of his chair trying to get closer, but instead of breaking the kiss, Tryst holds him closer and guides them both to standing.   
  
And, yes, this is better. Leenik can feel their bodies pressed firmly together head-to-toe and the fire in his stomach blooms at the touch. Tryst tilts his head, finding a better angle, and Leenik is heady from the kisses alone that he can't even think about more. Is he meant to be doing something other than grasping desperately at every square inch of Tryst he can reach? He follows him kiss after kiss until they're both breathless and Tryst is gasping, "Maybe we should take this-?"  
  
And Leenik's read enough romances to know how that sentence ends. He nods his head and wordlessly pulls at Tryst's smugglers vest until he's spurred into action and they both stumble out of the cockpit towards Tryst's bedroom.  
  
He's imagining this, he must be. He has to kiss Tryst several times on the way there to make sure. They nearly get distracted completely only two metres away from his room because Leenik accidentally trailed his suction-cup fingers down Tryst's inner wrist and he pushed Leenik into the nearest wall to show him just how much he liked that. A lot, apparently. They're making out against the wall when Tryst shifts against him and Leenik feels his hardness press against his own groin.   
  
The entire world shifts for Leenik again, a whole new scope of possibilities and wants erupting inside him. But this time,  _this time_ , it looks like the world has changed for Tryst too. His eyes are closed, he groans against Leenik's lips, and it looks like it physically pains him as he steps away. "Room," he says, and Leenik's never heard anyone sound so wrecked. He'd comment if he thought he could speak any clearer himself. Instead, he nods quickly and firmly and grabs Tryst's hand, propelling them both through the door and collapsing onto the bed the other side.   
  
They're only apart for a single breath before Tryst is kissing him again, bracing himself over Leenik with an arm either side of his head. Leenik squirms beneath him, pushing his hips upwards, eager to feel the fire erupt again.  
  
Tryst acquiesces and lowers himself ever so slightly until their clothed groins rub together. They groan in unison and then Tryst is pulling at Leenik's "ridiculous sweater" pushing it up and over his head before coming down to rub against him again. It's still too much heat and Leenik paws at Tryst's jacket until he gets with the programme and ditches that too.   
  
They shed the rest of their outer clothing quickly and messily, their lips and their groins never too far apart.   
  
Tryst pauses with his hand over Leenik's pants, a silent question in his eyes.   
  
"Yeah," Leenik says breathlessly. "I'm okay. Please, I-" but he doesn't get to finish the sentence because Tryst is kissing him again. Leenik threads his fingers through Tryst's hair as he breaks away to undo the fastenings and strip away the fabric.   
  
Leenik is begin to feel a little exposed when Tryst comes back up, brushing his lips against Leenik's clothed erection, before spreading the comforting weight of his body back over Leenik entirely.   
  
Leenik releases the breath he didn't realise he was holding before kissing Tryst softly, and experimentally lifting his hips to feel the new sensation. He gasps. He can feel the heat between his cock and Tryst's bare chest, separated only by a thin piece of fabric that drags ever so slightly against his cock head. Tryst sighs against his lips, as if it felt good for him too.   
  
"You okay?" Tryst asks.  
  
Leenik nods quickly and repeatedly because  _okay_  is an understatement. "Uh-huh. Your pants."  
  
"Right."   
  
Tryst trips over himself in trying to rid himself of his pants so quickly and under any other circumstances it would be hilarious, but Leenik is too turned on, too overwhelmed, and far too eager to feel this new closeness, to comment on it.   
  
Tryst comes back with a little laugh that Leenik feels against his cheek, and then he's back properly, and Leenik can't feel a single thing but fire.   
  
When he comes back to himself, he realises that they're rutting mindlessly against each other, chasing their orgasms, lips attempting to connect but mostly missing, and he's close. He's far too close.  
  
"Stop!" Leenik shouts.  
  
Tryst jumps back and away, and it's really cold, and only then does Leenik realise what he said.   
  
"No!" he says between deep breaths, pulling Tryst back towards him. "I just mean... it's too good. But I wanna... be naked. With you. Can we?"  
  
It takes Tryst a second but then he's fully on board, nodding eagerly, and getting back to the important business of kissing Leenik.   
  
He doesn't even stop when he reaches down to dispose their underwear. He doesn't even comment on the bulging, yellowing, Rhodian penis between his legs like Leenik expected him to. He just keeps kissing Leenik.   
  
Leenik reaches up to pull them flush together and it's his new favourite feeling in the world: Head-to-toe touching Tryst Valentine.   
  
Tryst makes a kind of strangled noise in the back of his throat as if he agrees but then he's pulling away again, "Do you want-?" he tries. "We can... like this? If you want? Or...?"  
  
_Or._  
  
The world alights an entire world of wants within him but he's too blinded with lust to think them through. "Next time?" Leenik suggests. "More, next time. Now, this."  
  
"Yeah," Tryst says, "Next time, okay," and then he's bending down and kissing Leenik again.  
  
Leenik falls under a cloud of lust and begins moving purely by instinct alone; shifting his hips to allow the hard press of Tryst's penis to slide perfectly against his, fingers pushing into against Tryst's ass to urge him closer, rocking his body in counter-point to Tryst's movements. It comes as naturally as breathing. He thought he'd be scared, or nervous, but there's nothing in this world except the feeling of Tryst against him and he trusts Tryst with his life. They become a single writhing being born of heat and longing.   
  
Tryst's hips stutter out of rhythm and he whines against Leenik's ear. "I'm so close, Nik, I'm-"   
  
Leenik kisses his cheek, the only part he can reach. "S'ok, me too. Sweetie, I-"  
  
Tryst moans and buries his forehead into Leenik's neck as he thrusts more and more erratically against him. Leenik's name becomes a mantra and it's never sounded so beautiful. Leenik keeps his cybernetic hand pressed into Tryst's ass, urging him on, as the other comes to cradle Tryst's hair, clutching at it as he begins to moan.  
  
The friction is getting too much for Leenik too; he feels like he's going to explode. His head is buzzing with possibilities of  _next time_  even as the fire roars for attention. Tryst ruts against him as if he wants to be buried inside him and suddenly it's all Leenik wants too.  _Next time, next time, next time..._  
  
Tryst suddenly stills, shooting a hot spurt against his chest and grunting wordlessly, and the sensation sends Leenik over the edge too. He gasps, mouthing wordlessly at the ceiling, as he grips Tryst's hair and ruts mindlessly through his intense orgasm.  
  
He's still gasping, coming down from the high, when he realises Tryst is speaking softly to him, "You're okay, it's okay..." as he drops chaste kisses on Leenik's face.   
  
Leenik inhales deeply and starts to believe it as Tryst repeats the words. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm okay."  
  
It was intense, but a  _good_  kind of intense he thinks.  
  
Tryst is still looking down at him with a soft smile, stroking the sides of his face gently with a turned knuckle.   
  
Leenik is captivated; the sight so unlike any Tryst Valentine move that it leaves him kinda breathless and aching.   
  
"What?" Tryst asks, because Leenik must have been staring too long.  
  
"I just didn't think... I didn't think it would be like that, that's all."  
  
Tryst frowns. "Like what?"  
  
"It was good," Leenik hurries to clarify. "I just mean..." But he doesn't know what he means. Instead, he reaches up and strokes the side of Tryst's face, pushing back the fallen hair that obscures his face. "I liked it."  
  
"Good," Tryst says, leaning down to brush his lips against Leenik's. "I liked it too."


	3. Dark Side Threesome - Aava/Tryst/Leenik - E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Aava helps Leenik to embrace and control his darker impulses. This translates to both of them putting the sexy hurt on an eager Tryst. Up to filler whether Leenik actually engages sexually or simply doles out pain, as long as everyone is enjoying themselves thoroughly."
> 
> Warnings: HOLY SHIT LITERALLY ALL THE CONTENT WARNINGS. But, sure, let me try and list them: D/s, BDSM, Bloodplay, Breathplay, FORCEPLAY, casual mentions of murder, stealing, and lost body parts... oh, and Leenik is less asexual in this than he normally is in my fics. He gets pretty into it.
> 
> ([DW](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=11524#cmt11524))

Leenik goes to Aava after he kills Chartreuse. He just straight up calls her and says, "Hi, I just killed someone. And not a bad someone."  
  
"Oh," she says. "And how do you feel about it?"  
  
"I don't know..." Leenik says, but then looks down at the shaft where she fell. "Kinda powerful."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"I don't know if I can go back though."  
  
"To your ship?"  
  
"Yeah."   
  
"Oh," she says. "Don't you have a, uh, son waiting for you?"  
  
"Yeah," Leenik says sadly. "But I don't know how I can face him now. Or any of them. Can I stay at BHIKKE with you?"  
  
"Sure, buddy, but we're shipping out pretty soon."  
  
"That's okay. I'll get my new hand and meet you there."  
  
-  
  
When Leenik approaches the Bluebird, Agent Zero is looking at him with his arms folded and a glare on his visor. Leenik doesn't get why he's the one being so unwelcoming when it was him that cut off Leenik's hand, but whatever.   
  
Aava comes down to greet him. "You sure about this? Those kids love you, you know."  
  
"What? Tony? I know he does, but I'm no good for him."  
  
"I mean, Tryst, Bacta, the others. They'll come find you."  
  
Leenik shrugs. "No, they won't," he says despondently. "I've done nothing but hurt them. Why would they care?"  
  
Aava sighs and seems to give in, stepping back to allow him onto the ship.   
  
-  
  
Things get weird quick. And being on the Bluebird is very different from being on the Mynock. No one thinks it's weird that Leenik likes violence. No one tries to talk him through his feelings. It's kinda refreshing. But, also, sometimes, he misses Bacta's overcaution and Tryst's blase attitude.   
  
The others seem to accept him as Aava's plaything, happy to let him run amok aside her, but they don't really let him out of their sight.   
  
And Aava's great, she really is, letting Leenik express all of his anger, telling him how good it is to embrace the dark feelings, instead of squirrelling them away. He feels so free. And powerful. And he kills a dozen people. And at night, Aava lets him sleep beside her, curled against her side.  
  
-  
  
It's going great until they're docked landside to refuel and a beautiful woman just strolls onboard claiming to know something about vibroblades. Something feels off even before Aava steps forward and removes the long blonde wig to reveal Tryst Valentine underneath.  
  
Zero and Synox jump to action as Aava drawls, "Really, Valentine? You thought that would work?"  
  
And Tryst shrugs and looks at Leenik. "Maybe I just wanted to pull a Leenik."  
  
Leenik's heart swells. It's been a month. He thought he'd never see Tryst again. But, Tony. "Where are the others?"  
  
"Safe. Don't worry," he says as Synox cuffs him behind his back. "I'm the only one mad enough to come after you."  
  
"You'd better hope that's true," Zero grumbles.  
  
Aava holds up a hand. The others still. Tryst looks between everyone expectantly. "Leave him with us, Synox. I want to speak to him. Alone."  
  
"Are you sure that's a good idea Agent Arek? Valentine has been known to-"  
  
"I'm sure. Leave us."  
  
They leave, but not before Zero has reworked the cuffs so that Tryst is locked to the wall of the cargo hold, his hands pinned above him to an industrial pipe. Zero makes a show of pocketing the key as he departs and the door of the ship slowly rises.  
  
The three of them are cast into artificial light. Leenik has no idea what to say. He's so happy to see Tryst, but so scared of what Aava might do.   
  
"How did you find us?"  
  
"Same way you found us."  
  
"What?" Leenik asks, because he has no idea what's going on.  
  
Tryst and Aava seem to have an angry, silent conversation before Aava rolls her eyes and turns to explain to Leenik, "I put a tracker on the Mynock before we left Phindar. In case you changed your mind."  
  
"Aww," Leenik says, hand over his heart. "That's so sweet."  
  
Tryst snorts. "Come on, Leenik, you don't believe that. She did it because she wants Tamlin. She's just using you."  
  
Leenik almost believes it if it weren't for the sudden crackle of energy that comes from Aava. Tryst shrinks back a little against the wall, as if afraid. Good. He probably should be. Only a idiot walks straight onto Aava Arek's ship and  _taunts_  her.   
  
"So you reversed the signal?" Aava says, sauntering towards him. "Clever. Didn't think you had it in you."   
  
"I have my moments," Tryst says, attempting to sound cocky even as Aava grasps his chin in her hands, fingernails digging into his skin as she turns his face towards her.   
  
"That you do," Aava mutters darkly. "So, you're here for Leenik?"  
  
Tryst looks over Aava's shoulder to where Leenik stands, still kinda dazed, watching the two of them verbally spar.  
  
"Of course I am. He's ours," he says, and Leenik's heartaches at the earnest look in his eyes. "I want to take him home."  
  
Aava tuts and strides back over to Leenik, interlinking their hands so that she can press little delicate kisses on the tips of Leenik's fingers. It's something they normally only do in the privacy of their quarters. He knows why she's doing it now. Taunting him. And it works if Tryst's tortured expression is anything to go by. "What do you say, sweetheart?" she asks Leenik.   
  
Leenik smirks. He can play this game too. Tryst used to have all the power over him; he used to make Leenik into a weak and stumbling fool, but no longer. Here, Leenik has the power. He saunters over to Tryst, watches as his eyes grow wide and dark with lust, and trails his suction-cup fingers tantalisingly slowly up Tryst's bare arm towards the neckline of his dress.   
  
He's hard. He's breathing rapidly. He's sighing Leenik's name.  
  
Leenik has never felt more powerful.   
  
"I say..." he says, dragging his finger down Tryst's chest, "that I'm not  _his_  at all." He looks back over to Aava to see her grinning wickedly and it firms his resolve, "He's  _ours_."  
  
Tryst growls and his hips buck as his eyes dart between the two of them. He's very clearly interested.   
  
Aava steps up behind Leenik, close enough that he can feel her breasts pushed into his back and her breath at the side of his neck. "I think he needs to learn that lesson, don't you?"  
  
Tryst shudders in a breath. "Yes. Oh god, yes please."  
  
Aava suddenly surges past Leenik and pushes her mouth against Tryst's, kissing him messily and deeply, smearing each other's lipstick until its indistinguishable. It's hot. It's really hot. He has no interest in the sex part of Aava's plans, but oh, does he want to touch, and hurt, and make Tryst scream until he doesn't know if it's in pain or pleasure.   
  
He steps forward and flicks the knife out from his cybernetic hand, tearing Tryst's dress open in one swift movement.   
  
Tryst breaks away from the kiss with a shocked gasp as the fabric falls around him and Leenik notices a sharp red line on his thigh where his knife cut too close and the blood begins to drip down his shaved leg.   
  
Tryst swears and calls Leenik's name and bucks against Aava, totally helpless and desperate to be touched. "Leenik, please," he begs.  
  
Leenik smirks, letting Tryst have that moment of doubt that he's not going to touch him, before kneeling down and licking a stripe up across his bare and bleeding leg.   
  
Tryst yelps and starts forward, his handcuffs clanking noisily against the pipes. "Fuck."  
  
Aava shushes him and scrapes her hand - nails and all - down Tryst's side, disposing him of his underwear. Tryst's erection stands tall and free, and he whimpers as Aava teasingly trails her fingertips across the head of his penis. Leenik knows he's trying to stay strong, but he'll be begging before the end of it.  
  
Aava moves away to twist his nipple - sharply from the sounds of Tryst's yelp - and Leenik stands up to wrap his cybernetic hand firmly around Tryst's neck. Not squeezing. Not yet. Just pressing him still against the wall.  
  
Tryst whimpers at the sensation, and Leenik tightens his fingers experimentally and leans close to feel the change in Tryst's breath. He feels little, short, breaths against his lips, and Leenik can no longer resist the temptation, moving his fingers to grasp Tryst's long hair, pulling him into a deep kiss instead.   
  
He hears Aava fall to her knees and knows she must be doing something brutal to Tryst's groin if his pained whimpers are an indication, but Leenik doesn't stop kissing him long enough to find out exactly what's going on. He tugs at Tryst's hair to get his attention when he feels he's getting distracted, sometimes hard enough to break, and Tryst groans every time.   
  
He breaks away finally to see Aava's lips wrapped around Tryst's penis and the skin either side of his groin coloured red and purple with darkening bite marks.   
  
Tryst's head falls back against the side of the ship, utterly blissed out, and Leenik's hand curls into Aava's hair, petting it, letting her know what a good job she's doing.   
  
That's when Aava moans around Tryst's dick, causing Tryst to buck and cry out, receiving a sharp slap from Aava in response. He stills even though it seems to be taking his every effort to do so and struggles against his handcuffs instead as if he desperately wants to hold her in place.   
  
Without even looking, Aava flicks her wrist and the cuffs jump an inch into the air, pulling Tryst as taught as he can go. He shouts in surprise as he tries to steady himself on tiptoes and not to jostle Aava in the process, afraid of another punishment.   
  
Leenik groans. He's never been so turned on in his life. He reaches out and digs his cybernetic hand into Tryst's hip, keeping him steady, and it gives him an idea.   
  
He ducks around Tryst, slotting himself between Tryst and the wall, straining the cuffs even further, and then, he begins to rut against him, pushing his clothed dick firmly between the naked cheeks of Tryst's ass.  
  
Tryst moans and pushes back against him, chasing the sensation. But then rocks forward into Aava's mouth instead. He's caught. Hung between them. Tortuously overwhelmed from all sides.   
  
Leenik reaches around to grasp him by the neck again, squeezing hard enough to bruise, and twisting him around to kiss him, with teeth this time, causing blood to spill from his lips.   
  
Tryst flails between them and tries to gasp out a warning but it's swallowed by Leenik's lips as he bucks his hips and comes down Aava's throat.   
  
Leenik's so close that he doesn't let him sag, no even for a minute, just drops his throat in favour of grasping both his hips and rutting mindless against him, finding a groove that squeezes him just right even through the fabric of his pants.   
  
Aava's equally impatient. She drops the force magic on his cuffs, causing Tryst to stumble backwards, even closer to Leenik, and then thrusts her hand down her own pants as she watches them fuck. Tryst groans with frustration, having to watch as Aava's quickly and effectively rubs herself in front of him, utterly unable to help.   
  
Leenik looks away and buries himself back into Tryst's ass. The pressure is building and he digs his hands into Tryst's hips, the metal of the cybernetic hand clawing at the skin as he loses himself in the pleasure. They both cry out, and Leenik just ruts mindlessly, one, two, three more times before his orgasm overtakes him and he shouts wordlessly into Tryst's exposed neck, biting down on the naked flesh.   
  
Slowly, as he comes to, he releases his teeth from Tryst's skin, just in time to see Aava come down from her own high with an almost visible electrical force crackling towards Tryst.   
  
Tryst stiffens in Leenik's arms, like he might be genuinely terrified for the first time in the encounter, or just really turned on. It's always hard to tell with Tryst.   
  
They stand there, panting, and exhausted, with a bloody, bruised, and ecstatic naked Trystan Valentine between them.   
  
Tryst laughs. "Oh my god," he says, licking the blood and lipstick from his lips. "Oh my  _god_."  
  
Aava smirks, already looking dignified and not like she came in her pants only minutes ago. She reaches up to unlatch Tryst's cuffs and he falls to the floor, Leenik catching him as they go.   
  
"You had...? The whole time?" Tryst asks, looking up at her from the floor.  
  
She swings the unlocked cuffs around in her hand. "Of course I had the key."  
  
Tryst laughs again, a little hysterically, as he leans back in Leenik's arms. "And you... boy, have you changed."  
  
"For the better I hope."  
  
Tryst strains his head round to look at Leenik earnestly, and frowns a little. "I don't know."  
  
Leenik is absently stroking his arms gently across Tryst's body, calming him, as Aava kneels down and checks for damage, peppering little kisses over the bruises that she finds.  
  
"What do you mean?" Leenik whispers. "I thought you liked... that."  
  
Tryst tiredly reaches up to brush Leenik's cheek. "I do. But I like... this, too," he says, and reaches up to catch Leenik in a slow and chaste kiss to demonstrate.  
  
Leenik melts a little against him, and kisses him back, slow and steady.   
  
"Come back home," Tryst whispers against his lips.   
  
Leenik sighs, and leans his forehead against Tryst's. He misses him, and Tony, and the Mynock, but he's a bad person now, he can't go back to pretending doesn't feel the bad things he does.   
  
Tryst turns his head away slightly to where Aava is delicately applying a bacta patch to his injured leg. "You too," he says. "Come with us."  
  
Aava scoffs, but her face is tilted away from them, as if she doesn't trust her eyes not to betray her.  
  
"You're not a bad person, Aava," Tryst insists, tugging her up for a gentle kiss. "There's some good in you, I know it. Come with us."  
  
She sighs and closes her eyes, and this time Leenik's certain there's some sadness in it. "I can't, Tryst. You know I can't. If I leave, the Empire will kill me."  
  
Tryst shrugs. "You think that bothers us? We're all on the run from the Empire, Aava. You'd be right at home."  
  
"I  _can't_ ," she says, a little more forcefully this time. "But you two have to go before Zero gets back. I can show you the way out beneath the ship."  
  
Tryst starts protesting but Aava turns to Leenik and talks over him, "Before you go, punch me with that thing until I'm unconscious. It will make it look like you caught me unawares."  
  
Leenik shakes his head. "No, no way-"  
  
"I can take it."  
  
"I  _know_ , but they won't forgive you for trusting me if they think I did that to you..."  
  
" _Especially_  if we take Zero's jetpack," Tryst mutters, eyeing the contraption across the cargo bay.   
  
Leenik opens his mouth to say  _no_  but then he catches himself,  _of course_  they need a jetpack. "Oh yeah, we're totally doing that."  
  
Aava sighs. "Okay, fine. But you need to go  _now_. Here," she says, throwing her cloak at the still-naked Tryst.   
  
Shakily, he puts it on, hissing at every new bruise and aching muscle he finds. When they're back home, Leenik thinks, he'll work out every one. And that's when he catches himself:  _Home_.   
  
He helps Tryst to his feet as Aava explains the best way out, and gets them the jetpack down from the wall, which Leenik immediately shoulders.   
  
They pause, ready to leave, but unwilling to say goodbye, when Aava makes the decision for them and pulls Tryst into a gentle hug.  
  
"You've got a home, you know," Tryst says, his voice hoarse. "Any time you need one." He drops a kiss into her hairline as she retreats. She smiles at him with watery eyes before turning her attention to Leenik.  
  
Leenik holds her by the shoulders. "I love you," he says sincerely, and she sags a little, as if she's never heard the words before. "Thank you for everything."  
  
"Anytime," she says, and it sounds much more loaded than the word ought to be.   
  
Leenik leans in and kisses her, just once, before pulling back and raising his fist instead.  
  
Tryst catches her just as she falls and they lower her unconscious body to the floor.   
  
"Funny," Tryst says as they stand back up and look at her prone body. "Usually I'm the one that gets punched."


	4. Friend Fiction - Bacta/Tryst/Leenik - M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "One or more members of the crew discover Leenik's erotic friend fiction. After that, things get weird...er."
> 
> ([DW](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=12292#cmt12292))

Bacta is tidying up after Tamlin's latest Force-mishap when he stumbles across what can only be Leenik's secret storage compartment. He knows because when he peeks behind the literal curtain to check for lizards there are a dozen pink heart stickers over a single panel on the otherwise unremarkable wall.   
  
Bacta debates for a good few seconds longer than Tryst would before fingering the edge of the panel and prying it off to reveal the shoebox-size storage space behind it.   
  
It's full of paper.  
  
Paper is karking expensive. How much has Leenik been spending on dead trees???   
  
He's annoyed, but he's also  _really_  curious. If it's on paper, and not a datapad, that probably means it's secret. Really secret.  
  
This time he hesitates almost as long as Lyn would, before reaching in and pulling out the stack of papers.   
  
Handwritten.  
  
Handwritten papers.  
  
Force, Leenik is  _such_  an oddball.   
  
He squints trying to make sense of Leenik's scratchy handwriting, and then, he spots what looks suspiciously like his name. And Sian's.   
  
"What the...?"  
  
He flicks to the next lump of paper. Lyn. Tryst.  
  
Another. Aava. Tryst.  
  
Another. Tryst.  _Bacta_.  
  
Bacta grimaces, and looks away just as his eyes catch on the word "engorged".  
  
"Okay," he says forcefully. "That's enough of that." And attempts to stuff the papers back into the shoebox before he can be further scarred.   
  
-  
  
Bacta tries not to think about it. He does a pretty good job until night falls and the others are asleep and he's listless and lonely and he misses Sian enough to convince himself that she could maybe come alive, just for a minute, through a story.   
  
He returns to Leenik's hiding place and extracts the story about Sian. He sits out on the wing of the ship, letting the cool breeze from the forest planet calm him as he begins to read.  
  
Twenty minutes later and he's openly crying. Leenik's writing is raw and honest and emotional and eerily in character. It almost feels like he's reunited with her in flesh as well as in word. It's beautiful.  
  
-  
  
Sadly, guiltily, it becomes a habit. Every night when the others are sleeping, he takes a new story out of Leenik's storage and finds a quiet corner of the ship to read it in.   
  
Not all of the stories are as sweet as Sian's either. In fact, Aava's and Tryst's is downright  _filthy_. But the writing's still good. And it makes the night pass quicker. And if he's creepy for reading them then he can at least console himself by the fact that he's not the one  _writing_  them. No. He's just appreciating the written word. And if he gets a boner sometimes? Well, that just shows how good the writing is.   
  
-  
  
It's a week later when he's reading a  _really_  hot story about Tryst being tied up and pegged by Lyn (penned _Naughty Boy_ ) that he realises that his hand has snaked into his pants.   
  
He groans as he touches himself. "I'm going to hell," he mutters as pleasure rocks through him. "Going. To.  _Hell._ "  
  
-  
  
Bacta zones out. He never zones out. Especially in a clipboard meeting. But Tryst's hair is looking magnificent today, billowing in the breeze from the aircon, sun-kissed and radiant.   
  
And then he catches himself.  
  
_Sun-kissed and radiant._  
  
That's from  _Tryst and Bacta Undercover_ , the story he'd read two weeks ago. Well, Bacta thinks, Leenik's not wrong.   
  
-  
  
He's thirty stories in when Bacta realises that not a single story is about Leenik. He's written about Sneak and Tubaik's wedding night ( _A New Partnership_ ) and a really disturbing (but kinda hot) story about  _Bzzzx Getting Busy_  with the hive, but never once has Leenik apparently fantasied about himself.   
  
Okay, sure, Leenik's "gluten-free" when it comes to sex but not all of his stories are erotic, some are just cute kisses and romantic declarations, and, thirty stories in, Bacta is beginning to be offended that Leenik apparently doesn't think of him as a potential romantic partner. Or Tryst, even, which is even more surprising.   
  
The answer comes to him during  _Let's Dance_  - an AU in which the entire crew are professional dancers in a polyamarous relationship who risk losing everything in the final dance of a major competition because Tryst chose Aava as his partner - that maybe Leenik doesn't think of  _himself_  as a valid romantic partner. Because even when Leenik writes himself into a story, he's only there to provide comic relief. He's the manager in  _Let's Dance_  with a few good one-liners, and at one point, the others mention in passing how much they love him. But he's not wooed. He's not kissed. He's never even asked to dance.   
  
Oh, Leenik.  
  
-  
  
Bacta doesn't quite know what to do with this revelation. What started as harmless fun - and a couple of good wanks - has turned into an emotional dilemma. He knows Leenik has a thing for Tryst. (Then again, who doesn't - begrudgingly, in a small way at least - have a thing for Tryst?) But Tryst wouldn't know romance if it came and decked him in the face. (Which, thinking about it, Leenik has done on at least three occasions).  
  
He also can't think of a single way of telling Tryst without it ending in disaster. Especially if it involves revealing Leenik's precious erotic friend fiction.  
  
Nope. It's out of the question. Whatever Bacta does, it's going to have to be by himself.   
  
-  
  
He mulls it over but that doesn't mean he stops reading and it's a sign as to just how comfortable he's gotten with his new nighttime routine that he doesn't even notice Tryst approaching the cockpit until he's already over the threshold.  
  
Bacta pauses, dick in hand, papers haphazardly spread across the dash and his lap - a sex pollen story called  _Unstoppable_ involving the whole crew (his favourite, he can admit, even if Leenik is woefully absent) - and looks across to Tryst.  
  
He's leaning against the doorway in his nighttime kimono looking annoyingly calm and put together. "Oh please," he says, "Don't stop on my account."  
  
And it's word for word out of Leenik's story,  _Dangerous Places_. Dangerous, indeed.   
  
"Wh...?" Bacta starts.  
  
Tryst nods his head towards the stacks of papers. "Have you gotten to  _Naughty Boy_  yet? It's my favourite. I don't know how Leenik gets them so accurate though. It's freaky. I didn't think anyone but Aava knew about the nipple thing."  
  
Bacta's mouth is suddenly dry. His dick perks a little in his hand. The nipple thing. Oh, Force. That's  _true_? He stares at Tryst's chest, wordless, wondering if Tryst really does have nipples that are  _that_  sensitive.   
  
"Oh come on, don't look so shocked. You think you're the first to find Leenik's stash? That's been my wank material for two years now. So can I suck your dick or what?"  
  
"Wh...?" Bacta manages. It feels like his entire brain has short-circuited. "You  _knew_?"  
  
"Well, yeah." He shrugs. "So, your dick? Can I?"  
  
Bacta thinks he may have dozed off during a really good wank because this is exactly how Leenik's stories tend to go. And Bacta finds himself doing what he normally does in these stories and nodding his head, stunned.   
  
Turns out, the thing about Tryst's nipples  _is_  true after all.  
  
-  
  
"So, er," Bacta starts as he starts picking up his strewn clothing. "Do you think anyone else has read them?"  
  
Tryst shakes his head while attempting to straighten out a page that got crumpled in their coupling. "Nah, or if they have, they don't care. Leenik's ours, you know?"  
  
Bacta nods and says "yeah" even before he's understood the sentence, and then he says, "What?"  
  
"You know...  _Ours_."  
  
"Uh."  
  
"I mean, I guess, mostly mine. But you care about him in a mushy way too. So, yeah, they're for us and everyone knows it. If Lyn or someone found them, they would've left off."  
  
"Wait," Bacta says and the implication is enough to make him pause mid-belt buckle. "Are you saying Leenik writes them  _for_ us?"  
  
Tryst shrugs. It irritates Bacta how he always seems so cool about everything, even this concern about Leenik that has been torturing Bacta for  _days_. "He hides them behind a panel covered in heart stickers, Bacta. He wanted us to find them. He may as well have drawn a heart around our names and doodled pictures of our wedding."   
  
Bacta stumbles back into the co-pilot's chair to take a well-needed break. "He's gluten-free," he says, nonsensically.   
  
"Yeah..." Tryst says like it's kriffing obvious, "So he writes stuff so that  _we_  can get our kicks off. It's kinda sweet."  
  
"This is mad," Bacta mutters because he has to say it even if it is, also, kinda sweet. "And you haven't said anything?"  
  
"Urgh, no," Tryst says with disgust, stacking the papers back together, "He'd get so embarrassed. I'm not doing that."  
  
"But he wants..." Bacta starts and falters when Tryst looks at him with interest.   
  
"What?" he prompts.  
  
"I just think... for a guy that writes about a lot of stuff happening between a lot of people, do you not think it's weird that he doesn't write about himself? At all? Especially if - as you think - if it's written  _for_  us?"  
  
Tryst frowns. "I always just figured talking about himself made him uncomfortable."  
  
"Right."  
  
"You think he - what? Thinks we wouldn't be interested in reading about him?" Tryst scoffs. "Leenik may be a dumbass, but he's not that stupid. He knows I dig him."  
  
"Does he?" Bacta prompts, tidying up his shirt, "Because it seems to me every time you guys have a Thing, he's always all cute and flustered and you're... you know, all Tryst Valentine about it."  
  
"Hey!" Tryst interjects. "It's not like you're Mister Feelings all the time either. Have you ever told him how  _you_  feel? No."  
  
"Yeah but I don't go round kissing the guy-"  
  
"Oh,come on! Like you haven't-"  
  
Bacta grabs Tryst's face and kisses him deeply to shut him up because he realises this is now a thing he can do.   
  
"Okay, Valentine, listen up. We're going to fix this."  
  
-  
  
Bacta feels ridiculous. He's wearing Leenik's stupid "the cook's busy, kiss me," apron and attempting to make his mountain of misshapen pancakes look like less of a disaster by burying them under lashings of syrup. Tryst is still bashing out notes on the piano, each note a little more frustrated than the last. There's some hastily picked flowers on the kitchen table which is set for breakfast as well as it can be considering all their crockery broke the last time Tryst pulled an emergency landing. And there's a snack for Tony, of course.   
  
Lyn wakes up first, of course she does. "What's all this?" she says, sounding as sceptical as their behaviour probably warrants.   
  
"We're wooing Leenik Geelo," Tryst says flat outright. Bacta blushes.   
  
"Oh," Lyn says, freezing in the kitchen doorway. And then, "Good. About time. I'll keep Tamlin busy."  
  
Bacta exchanges a glance with Tryst as she leaves because seriously, was he the last person on the Mynock to know about Leenik's crush?!   
  
Leenik stumbles in a little while later, sleepily rubbing his eyes, and his little antennae twitching as if they haven't fully woken up yet. He's wearing his long pyjamas still, Tony lobbing down the corridor after him, and it's the cutest thing.  
  
Bacta gives Tryst a nod. Tryst clears his throat and shakily stands up, clearly nervous in a way Bacta has never seen before. He walks over to Leenik and takes advantage of his slow and sleepy state to press a kiss against his cheek.   
  
Leenik's eyes widen in surprise and Bacta suppresses a grin.   
  
"Good morning," Tryst says. "Bacta made you breakfast. It's poison, don't eat it. I wrote you a song that's far more awesome. Also, I love you."   
  
"It's  _not_  poison," Bacta corrects before Leenik can get the wrong idea. "But, Tryst is right, his song is probably way better. I'm a terrible cook."  
  
"I..." Leenik stutters. His eyes look watery and Bacta really hopes he's not going to cry.  
  
Bacta steps away from the pancakes to hold Leenik by the shoulders because Tryst seems to have run out of Genuine Feelings for the day. "We're trying to be romantic, Leenik. Sorry if we're screwing it up. But, look," he sighs. "We want to date you - Tryst most of all because he's madly in love with you and just terrible at showing it - but I also like you. And I slept with Tryst, you should probably know that."  
  
"And we read your porn," Tryst interjects. "You should probably know that too."  
  
Leenik flushes and the tops of his antennae twist nervously and turn a little yellow at the tips. Bacta leans forward and brushes his lips across one of them, like he does in the single intimate moment in  _Let's Dance_ , and Leenik shudders beneath him.   
  
"Oh," he says, still seemingly in shock, and leans into Bacta's embrace.   
  
"It's really good writing," Bacta reassures him, with a hand awkwardly patting his back. "Thank you."  
  
"Oh," Leenik says again, "You're welcome."  
  
Tryst smirks across at Bacta as if to say 'I told you so' and Bacta just glares back. Fine. Tryst was right about Leenik writing it for them, but Bacta was right about Leenik not believing they loved him, so it's even stevens.   
  
Leenik pulls away to look at them both. "You're not... mad?"  
  
"Eh," Tryst shrugs. "Only because Leenik's never in them. He's our favourite character, you know. Would be nice to see more of him."  
  
"Oh," Leenik says again, blushing profusely.   
  
Slowly, Leenik reaches out until he's brushing fingertips with Tryst, and if Bacta isn't mistaken, he thinks he sees  _Tryst_  blush which is... new, and very interesting.   
  
"Oh, okay," Leenik says. "I can do that." He smiles softly at Tryst before turning back to Bacta, "Can I have pancakes now?"   
  
"Yeah, buddy," Bacta says, laughing with relief. "You can have pancakes." 


	5. First Date - Aava/Tryst + Group - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "After a by-the-books round of secret closet sex, Tryst surprised both of them by asking Aava out on a proper date. She surprised them both doubly by agreeing. This is that date. Bonus points for the Mynock/Bluebird crews spying on the whole affair."
> 
> ([DW](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=17156#cmt17156))

Sex with Aava is so good that Tryst can't really be blamed if sometimes his brain short-circuits because of it and he comes out with nonsensical garbage like "what a good panani" or "are we flying?" or even "we should go on a date."  
  
"What?"  
  
Tryst, still breathless and utterly debauched (and slowly falling down against the wall from which they just fucked because his legs have stopped working) carefully repeats himself, "A date. Me. 'N. You." He gestures tirelessly between them. "Would be fun," he says, and then there's some distant yelling somewhere in the back of his mind that makes him amend this to, "Funny. Would be funny. Us. Drunk. Date. Breadsticks."  
  
Aava squints down at him. He hates how put together she always seems to be immediately afterwards. She barely looks ruffled as she clips her lightsaber to her belt. "Funny..." she muses. "Okay."   
  
"Okay?" Tryst says because his brain has come back online enough to inform him that that was unexpected.  
  
"Yeah. Next time we're in the same quadrant, why not?" She shrugs, and then adds, "Somewhere fancy. I'd like to see you try and see you bluff your way past the door."  
  
"Oh ha ha," Tryst says sarcastically.   
  
Aava smirks, and picks up the satchel of electronics from the floor that, yep, Tryst was meant to have stolen from her. She winks and calls out, "Later, nerd," just as she disappears around the door and out of sight.  
  
-  
  
"Did you get it?" a voice crackles over Tryst's comm. Bacta. Right. The mission.  
  
"Er," Tryst tries to think about how to phrase 'actually it was her that ended up seducing me, sorry' as he attempts to put together his torn smugglers jacket. It comes out as a hesitant "I got... a date?"  
  
Silence. And then Leenik squeaks, "A date?"  
  
"With Aava?" That's Bacta. Tryst can tell from how mad he sounds.  
  
"Yeah," Tryst confirms, "with Aava."  
  
Lyn pipes up, "But did you get the bag? Trystan,  _did you get the bag_?"  
  
"Er..."  
  
But whatever Tryst was about to say becomes irrelevant as they all start shouting over each other. Lyn is mad. Leenik is excited. Bacta is trying to moderate. And somehow they come up with a new plan to thwart the Bluebird's plans.   
  
-  
  
A week later and they end up on Coruscant for a supply run.   
  
Tryst doesn't know which member of the Mynock hates the city planet more as they all trudge around the seedy streets underneath the sky full of traffic: Bacta's detailing all of the horrible ways they could die in the city, Leenik's constantly complaining about the smell, and Lyn is angry about dodgy tech, and dodgy people, and dodgy deals.   
  
Tryst doesn't mind it so much because at least the streets are honest, the higher up in this city you rise, the more corrupt it is. He minds it, also, a little less when they return to the Mynock with their stash of lesai and blasters to find Aava Arek lounged in the pilot's seat waiting for them.  
  
Bacta starts ranting and raving about Tamlin's safety and Leenik coos over Tony and Lyn goes on and on about security measures but  _really_  it's kinda sweet that Aava would go to this much effort to surprise him.   
  
Aava totally ignores everyone else in favour of smiling sultrily at Tryst.  
  
"No, no, no," Bacta is saying, stepping between them, "Don't you fall under her spell, Tryst. In case you've forgotten, Aava is a  _bad guy_  here. Alright? No making eyes at each other-" he snaps his fingers in front of Tryst. "Whatever she tells you, she's here for Tamlin, don't forget that."  
  
Tryst bats his hand out of the way. "Relax. I owe Aava a date, Bacta. I'm sure that's all she's here for. Right?" he asks directly to Aava, peering around Bacta's solid frame.   
  
"Riiight," Aava says, cottoning on. "Just here for the date. And for the fun of seeing you freak out. Obviously." Before Bacta can splutter out a protest, she turns to Tryst and looks him up and down, "Are you getting changed or what?"  
  
-  
  
Leenik digs out the jackets they stole last time they were in a restaurant and fusses over Tryst's hair and make up while Aava watches on with amusement.   
  
"He looks like the heroine in  _Rose of Coruscant_ ," Aava muses.   
  
"Aw, really? You think so?" Leenik gushes, and really this conversation is sickening.   
  
Tryst suddenly stands up before they can start comparing notes on trashy romance novel after trashy romance novel and turns to Aava, "Okay, so can we go now?"   
  
She sighs, as if put out, and bends down to brush a kiss against Leenik's cheek, "See you another time, sweetheart." And, really, how weird is it that she's kissed Leenik more than she's kissed Tryst? Tryst shakes his head and holds out his arm to Aava who dutifully takes it.  
  
They're barely out of the Mynock when Tryst hears Leenik say, "We're following them, right?" and Bacta grumble, "Yeah, we're following them."  
  
-  
  
The restaurant is probably the nicest place Tryst has ever been. He feels way too underdressed even in his dinner jacket, but Aava looks perfectly at home as she strides towards the table by the window in her long, red, dress with long side-slit. Tryst swallows nervously and glances back to see his crewmates attempt to bluff their way past the door.   
  
He sits down and looks out of the window at the streets miles below. Aava could push him out the window and send him to his death if she wanted. He swallows again. Who's idea was this???  
  
The waiter approaches and Tryst does a double take because there's no way Bacta got a disguise together so quickly. But that's not Bacta, he realises... it's  _Synox_.  
  
Tryst glances around the restaurant and finds them eventually: Minister Blue and Agent Zero hiding together behind a menu.   
  
_Holy Anakin Skywalker_.  
  
Everyone is here to witness this disastrous date and possible assassination attempt.   
  
Tryst exhales slowly, scanning the wine menu before picking one more or less at random. Synox leaves.   
  
"For what it's worth," Aava drawls, "I told them not to come."  
  
Tryst glances over his shoulder as his crewmates stumble towards a table, having successfully bluffed their way in. "At least we're evenly matched."  
  
"Oh," Aava says slowly, putting down her menu. "You're not actually here to kill me are you? Because that would be very unwise."  
  
"Ugh, no," Tryst dismisses. "Why? Are you here to kill  _me_?"  
  
She hesitates long enough to put Tryst a little on edge.  
  
"No," she says carefully.   
  
"Okay..." Tryst says, and picks up the menu to choose which overpriced bite of food he's going to choose to buy and not eat for the evening.   
  
-  
  
Miraculously, Synox comes back with the right wine and takes their order almost like a real waiter, and then there is nothing but Tryst and Aava and the unbearable silence.   
  
"Have we ever talked this long?" Tryst asks. "I don't think we've ever had to talk for this long. What do we even talk about? Politics? The weather? How you want to steal our child?"  
  
Aava seems to think about this for a moment. "I don't think we should talk about Tamlin. Especially here," she says, with a glance around the other patrons. She's kinda got a point. "How about... books? Do you read?"  
  
"Er..." Tryst begins. " _Of course_  I read, who can't read? But also, who's got the time, right?" He laughs and hopes it sounds at least a little bit genuine. "Yeah, that's totally it. So, what about holovids?"  
  
Aava shrugs. "I like some holovids. I watched  _Space Princess Dairies_  yesterday."  
  
Tryst nearly drops his wine glasses in his hurry to exclaim, "I  _love_   _Space Princess Dairies_. Have you seen the sequel?"  
  
Aava looks so excited, it's kinda adorable. "There's a  _sequel_?"  
  
-  
  
The food comes and goes, the wine is drunk, and somehow they end up splitting dessert and talking about ideal holiday destinations.   
  
"I always thought when I'd leave the Empire, I'd go somewhere warm, open up a little shop or something, train younglings, I don't know."  
  
Tryst listens intensely and a little tipsily, resting his head on his hand as he swirls the spoon above the glass dish. "That sounds nice. I don't know if I could ever settle somewhere though," Tryst admits. "I love space too much. I love flying. I get landsick if I'm in one place for too long."  
  
"Oh really?" Aava says, sounding genuinely interested as she finishes off dessert. "That's interesting. Space has never really felt like much of a home to me."  
  
Tryst reaches over without thinking to rest his hand over Aava's as it comes back to the table. "Maybe you're just in the wrong kind of space. The galaxy's a big place, Aava."  
  
"Maybe," she says, smiling softly, and places her hand over Tryst's. She looks strangely soft in the candlelight of the restaurant, like she's just a girl on a first date, and not a terrifying force witch for the Empire who could kill him with a twitch of her fingers. He kinda likes both sides of her.   
  
"Hey," Tryst says gently, "I might have a plan to ditch our friends. You game?"   
  
Aava smirks. "Like you even have to ask."  
  
-  
  
One restaurant disaster and a quick escape later, and they're running through the streets of Coruscant hand in hand, laughing, as they pull each other round corners and through shops, trying to ditch any of their crewmates that might still be following.   
  
They come to a halt when they reach one of Coruscant's rare canals that snake throughout the city. They rest against the railings, still laughing, and attempt to hold each other up as they catch their breath.   
  
"Oh my Empire," Aava swears. "That's the most fun I've had in a long time."  
  
Tryst laughs. "I told you it would be fun."   
  
Aava laughs and it's a fucking beautiful sound. "You're right," she says, as she places her hand on his shoulder for balance. "I should never have doubted you."  
  
Tryst places his hand on her waist, steadying her, and it brings them tantalisingly close. He's normally naked and half-mad with lust when he sees her like this normally. It's kinda nice to see her happy and smiling outside of that.  
  
"I had a nice time," Tryst says.  
  
"Yeah, me too," Aava replies, and she sounds genuinely surprised by the realisation.  
  
He watches as her eyes flicker across his face, and he doesn't know who leans in first, but their lips meet halfway. Tryst cradles her cheek and pulls them flush against each other as the kiss deepens. It's oddly chaste. They keep pulling apart only to come back together again. Kiss, after kiss, after kiss.  
  
A cleared throat makes them freeze and pull apart.  
  
A grumpy looking Bacta and Synox are glaring at them, arms folded, in a hilariously similar manner.   
  
"It's time to go home," Bacta says, ever the Dad of the Mynock.   
  
Tryst turns back to Aava, dumbfounded, "How was it that the  _clones_  found us?"  
  
"I agree," she says. "Embarrassing. Let's never speak of it again."  
  
"Agreed," Tryst says. He leans in for another kiss because they're still wrapped up in each other and it seems like a waste not to.  
  
" _Tryst_ ," comes Bacta's stern voice. "I'm not messing around. Come on."  
  
"Urgh," Tryst says, finally stepping away from Aava. "Fine."  
  
"I'll see you next time?" she asks, kinda sweetly, kinda hopefully, and Tryst can't resist diving in to peck her on the lips even as Bacta comes to literally drag him away.  
  
"Next time," he promises.  
  
"Nope!" Bacta shouts back to her as he pulls Tryst down the street by his collar. "There is  _definitely_  not going to be a  _next time_." 


	6. Little Lekku - Lyn/Zara - G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "During Lyn and Zara's relationship Zara comments upon the shortness of Lyn's lekku and overall very lean physique and decides she wants to see what a plumper Lyn might look like. Lyn tries to relate to Zara that shes not entirely cool with Zara's attempts to change her while also having a hard time resisting being pampered."
> 
> ([DW](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=5892#cmt5892))

"Oh but darling, you'd look  _lovely_  in blue."  
  
Lyn gives an exasperated sigh, and forces Zara to put the dress back in her wardrobe where it belongs. "It's at least two sizes too big for me, Zara. You  _know_  that. It's your third unsubtle hint this week."  
  
Zara places her hand over her heart and looks utterly offended. "I don't know what you could possibly mean."  
  
Lyn glares until Zara lifts her hands in surrender.   
  
"Oh,  _fine_ , you caught me. I admit that I'd like to see you looking a little... healthier, let's say - is that so wrong? You hardly eat a thing, darling. And you're my best girl, I want you to be happy."  
  
Lyn blushes, always falling prey to Zara's compliments, and grumbles, "I  _am_  happy."   
  
Zara reaches out and trails her fingers tantalisingly along Lyn's lekku. "I know you are, lovely, but aren't you even a little bit curious? You've always had such little lekku-"  
  
Lyn bats her hand away. She hates how sensitive she still is about her lekku.  
  
"I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to offend." And Zara smiles so sweetly that Lyn swears there's some pheromones at play. "I just want to see you looking beautiful in every possible way I can."   
  
Lyn scowls as Zara continues to pet her. Lyn's furious. Both at Zara for her persistence in trying to change her, but also at herself for so desperately wanting the attention. Zara's been more attentive to her needs this last week than for the entire month beforehand. She feels herself responding to the touch even now.   
  
"You are... unbelievable," Lyn settles on saying, as annoyance and desire still battle within her.  
  
Zara smiles charmingly and presses her lips against Lyn's in a gentle kiss. Lyn finds herself melting into it, anger forgotten, until she pulls away on an exhale to find that Zara's lips have been replaced by a small iced cake.  
  
A smug-looking Zara licks the icing off her fingers and raises her eyebrow at the cake in Lyn's mouth, daring her to eat it.   
  
Lyn glares. Of course she's not going to eat it.  
  
But... the icing is sugary sweet, and Zara is looking at her, so eager and beautiful, and Lyn wants to kiss her and she can't do that if there's cake in her mouth.   
  
She swallows. Zara grins. And their next few kisses are sugary sweet.


	7. Fake Married - Tryst/Leenik - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Whatever the reason, Tryst and Leenik have to pretend to be in a relationship for a mission, preferably for more than a day (hint: bed sharing). Lots of bickering and hiding true feelings, plenty of kissing "so we don't blow our cover." You know the drill."
> 
> I didn't have time to write all I wanted to, so I settled for the most important part of the trope: _bed sharing_.
> 
> ([DW](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=20740#cmt20740))

"...there's only one bed."  
  
Tryst sighs and dramatically falls back onto the large bed, arms spread, gazing up at the chandelier above. "Of course there's only one bed, Leenik, we're  _married_."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Tryst is pretty sure he feels Leenik blush from across the room. Tryst rises up onto his elbows to look across at Leenik who's still hovering in the hotel doorway with the bags at his feet. " _Really_?" Tryst says exasperated, " _This_  is where you draw the line? Fake rings: fine. Holding hands: fine. Making out in public: fine-"  
  
Yeah, he's definitely blushing now.  
  
"-but  _sharing a bed_?"  
  
"I didn't think..." Leenik starts and then all in a rush - "Ijustdidn'tthinkaboutitokay?"  
  
Tryst raises his hands in defend and falls back against the covers. "Well, the Wedding Fayre goes on for another day and this smuggler's still nowhere to be found so we've  _gotta_  stay, and I, for one, did not pay nearly a thousand credits to sleep on the floor. Be my guest though, if you fancy a night with the space spiders."  
  
There's a pause and then - "The bed is good."  
  
"Thought you might say that," Tryst mutters before he shuffles so he's only sprawled over half of the bed.   
  
They get ready for bed - Tryst in his kimono and Leenik in his ridiculous, pink, long silk pyjamas - but Tryst didn't even get so much as a  _peek_  at Leenik's underclothes which seems kinda unfair given that Leenik's seen him naked at least a hundred times. But, nope, Leenik confines himself to the fresher the entire time and then arranges himself at the far opposite end of the bed to sleep.   
  
Tryst can feel the tension in Leenik's body all the way across the mattress as they lie there in the dark. "This is stupid," he surmises. "You're practically  _vibrating_  with nerves over there. I don't get it. We've been much closer before.  _Today_  in fact. You were pressing up pretty close to me in the closet this afternoon when you were sticking your tongue down my throat..." Tryst narrows his eyes. "Wait, now that I think about it, how could that stallholder have seen us from-"  
  
"No, no," Leenik interjects, hastily turning in the bed to face Tryst. "He was  _definitely_  suspicious. That was a super-important tactical kiss."  
  
Tryst suppresses a chuckle because he's well aware that their excuses for kissing are getting flimsier by the second. "Okay," he says when he thinks he can do so without laughing, "But my point is, you were okay with all the kissing stuff and now you're acting all weird. Do you think I'm going to spontaneously have sex with you just because we're in the same bed?"  
  
Leenik crosses his arms, all defensive. "Well I don't know how it works."  
  
"Leenik-"  
  
"I mean, I don't know how it works with  _you_. You always make it sound like that's all that happens. Sometimes you just  _look_ at a woman and the next minute you're...  _you know_."  
  
Tryst scoffs, and props his head on his hands so he can fully enjoy the view of a cute and embarrassed Leenik beside him. "No," he says teasingly, "I  _don't_  know, but please do elaborate-"   
  
Leenik reaches across the bed to punch him in the arm. Gentler than usual. Friendly, almost. "Shut up."   
  
He's blushing yellow and avoiding his eyes and it's  _too_  cute. Tryst instinctively moves to kiss him. It's only when he's pulling away, after a slow peck, that he realises what he's done, and he freezes, still hovering over Leenik. "Sorry, I-"  
  
"It's okay," Leenik says in a hurry, but his eyes still look kinda dazed.  
  
"It's just a habit, y'know? Because we spent the day..."  
  
"Yeah..." Leenik mumbles.   
  
"Doesn't mean anything. Er..."  _unless you want it to_  a stupid voice in his head argues. He notices he's still hovering inches away from Leenik and he uses his elbows to push up and away. He falls on the mattress beside Leenik, not touching but still a little closer than before. "Sorry," he says again for lack of any other words.  
  
Leenik's still looking up at the ceiling where Tryst's face had been moments before. "I don't mind."

Tryst's mind works in overdrive trying to make sense of that - does he mean 'I don't mind because we're buddies' or 'I don't mind because I want you to kiss me'? - Tryst's eyes dart back and forth in the darkness as he debates whether or not to say anything, and in the end wimps out and says, "You know I... I'd never do anything you didn't want to."  
  
"Yeah," Leenik says, but it sounds vague enough to be a thought rather than an answer.   
  
"I mean it, Nik. Any time I step outta line, you tell me. But I..."  
  
Leenik's eyes snap to his across the pillows. They're really close.  _Wow_. They're really close. "What?" he asks, breathless.   
  
Tryst licks his lips, suddenly dry mouthed. "Just that, if you ever wanna step  _over_  a line..."  
  
Tryst doesn't even get to finish the sentence before Leenik grasps his face in his hands and pulls him into a deep kiss. Tryst flails a little as he loses his balance and ends up toppling over Leenik again.   
  
"Okay," Tryst says when they break away for air. "Cool. Yeah I was gonna say... do just that. Anytime."  
  
Leenik grins and his antennae twist a little in embarrassment. "Because we're married?"  
  
Tryst's heart stops. And then he realises that  _they're not married_  (thank Force). Leenik's just talking about the pretence, but that means... that  _this_  is just pretend too. Leenik's just practising kissing or something. It's just a game. And then his heart stops for a different reason. "Right," Tryst says, swallowing whatever that weird feeling was. "Because we're  _married_."  
  
Leenik smiles sweetly up at him and Tryst's insides twist a little. Already this feels too normal; like it could become their reality if the world just shifted slightly. He should move away, reconstruct the boundaries before the lines get too blurred, but Leenik is beneath him and he's happy and warm and Tryst doesn't have the strength to move away.   
  
He can't justify it under the pretence but he doesn't care. He leans down and brushes his lips across Leenik's forehead to the base of his antennae. He feels Leenik exhale against his cheek and then there's a tentative touch of hands in his hair and Tryst near-whimpers. He feels  _electrified_. He tries to keep his arms steady as he braces himself over Leenik, fighting his every instinct to fall down and into Leenik's warmth.   
  
Leenik shuffles slightly beneath him and Tryst pulls away to see him stifling a yawn. "You tired?"  
  
Leenik hums in agreement, nodding his head.   
  
Tryst is equal parts thankful and disappointed. He doesn't know what he'd do if they'd kept going but 'impossible to turn back' springs to mind. "Okay," he sighs, rolling away. "Okay."  
  
"Wh...?" Leenik asks sleepily.  
  
"I thought you wanted to go to sleep?"  
  
"I do," Leenik says, rubbing his eyes, "But  _with_  you."  
  
"Oh," Tryst says. " _Oh_." And before he can say one bad word about cuddling, Leenik has burrowed into his side, pillowing his head on Tryst's chest. He mutters, "I guess we're doing this then," too quiet for Leenik to hear under the rustling of sheets.   
  
Leenik sighs happily, and Tryst finds himself wrapping his arm around him, pulling him a little closer. He's warm, and comfortable, and kinda light-headed, and utterly unable to recall why he doesn't like cuddling.   
  
He's drifting to sleep when a sleepy Leenik calls his name against his chest.  
  
Tryst strokes his hand down Leenik's arm to show he's listening.   
  
"Have you um...?" Leenik begins. "Done this before?"  
  
Sleepily, Tryst grunts in a way he hopes translates into: "Done  _what_  before?"  
  
"I mean, um..." Leenik's finger is drawing circles on Tryst's chest while he talks and it's very distracting and very relaxing and Tryst is very confused by the combination. "Um, slept with someone without, er,  _sleeping_  with someone."  
  
"Oh," Tryst says, thinking back on if he's ever shared a bed like this before. "No, I guess not."   
  
"Me neither," Leenik says. "Neither of those things but... you know."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Tryst says, pressing a kiss to Leenik's forehead, because he knows exactly what Leenik means. It's nice to be sharing a first experience with someone, no matter how weird the circumstances.   
  
Leenik sighs happily against him, and Tryst opens his eyes just a fraction, just to witness for a moment how beautiful Leenik looks by his side, safe and happy; his hard edges softened by the night. 


	8. Flirting - Lyn/Aava - G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Aava/Lyn - Flirting. Lyn takes and keeps the initiative. May lead to more."
> 
> ([DW](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=12036#cmt12036))

Lyn had insisted that she be the one to negotiate with Aava because Aava clearly had both Tryst and Leenik under her thumb, and she didn't trust Bacta not to kill her on sight, which left her with the task of talking to the Hand of the Emperor. The boys make her sound both terrifyingly charming and genuinely terrifying, but Lyn thinks it's all an exaggeration until Aava appears on the holovid screen and Lyn immediately forgets every word in every language.  
  
Aava is  _beautiful_. No. Beautiful isn't the right word.  _Deadly_.  _Gorgeous_.  _Terrifying_.  _Stunning_. Some combination of those words might get somewhere close.  
  
Lyn swallows nervously. Even over holovid, it looks like Aava wants to eat her alive. Lyn struggles to find her opening words, "Hi..." She stumbles. There was definitely more to it than that. "I'm Lyntel L'-"  
  
"Yes," Aava says, "I know who you are."  
  
Lyn does  _not_  blush. "Oh." Elegant. So very elegant. "Okay. So, you know I'm calling from..."  
  
"The Mynock, yes," Aava says. Her eyes narrow and Lyn can't help but feel like she's being interrogated even though there's no way Aava's Force can reach this far. "Curious. Let me guess, you didn't trust the boys to talk to me?"  
  
Lyn snorts. "Would  _you_?"  
  
"No, they're idiots," Aava says flatly.  
  
On this, at least, Lyn can agree.   
  
"You  _do_  know that they're still listening though, right?"  
  
Lyn bristles at the patronising tone. As if Aava knows more about her boys than she does.  _Please_. "Of course I know they're listening," she bites back. She hears a clamouring in the gunnery above her head that rather proves her point. "That's why I locked the door behind them."  
  
Aava smiles, slow and feral, as her eyes dart over Lyn again as if reassessing. In the distance, Lyn hears the muffled shouts and banging of fists of three grown men as they realise they are trapped in a tiny gunnery bay. Aava's smile turns wider. "I'm impressed. Lyntel, was it?"  
  
Lyn bites her lip, and fights her blush. She annoyed at how easy this seems to be for Aava, and she refuses to fall under her charm just because she expects it. Instead, she has a sudden desire to turn the tables; to see if Aava is even capable of getting flustered. Lyn touches her tongue to her lip in thought, making sure it's perfectly visible and for Aava's eyes to flicker to it, caught, before smirking triumphantly and leaning back in the captain's chair, her crop top riding  _just_  so. "Lyn," she corrects.   
  
Aava visibly swallows and Lyn tamps down on her grin. She didn't think it would be so easy. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance," she says, her eyes lingering a little too long on the word 'pleasure' to be at all misunderstood.  
  
"Oh, believe me," Lyn says, biting her lip coyly, "the pleasure's  _all_  mine."  
  
Aava's eyes dart over her face, a look of pleasant surprise on her face. In the distance, the boys have fallen silent. Too silent. The kind of silent that means she is never going to live this down. Aava smiles and looks away, a soft chuckle behind her lips, as if she's amused, but there's a redness to her cheeks that betray her.   
  
Lyn smirks. "You're cute when you blush."  
  
At least one of the boys exclaim loudly at that, but Lyn pays no attention, as Aava turns back and struggles to find words on the screen before her.  
  
She's...  _flustered_. Lyn did it. And in barely three sentences. She grins triumphantly.   
  
"I...don't..." Aava clears her throat, and attempts to straighten her face into seriousness again. "I don't  _blush_."  
  
"Relax," Lyn says, the game over, at least for now. "It's cute, but that's not why I called."   
  
"Oh?" Aava says, sounding both relieved and disappointed. And then, as if she suddenly remembered their situation, repeated seriously, "Oh. Of course. What do you want?"  
  
Lyn bites her lip because after their conversation she now wants a  _great_  many things. She risks looking up through her eyelashes to see Aava flushed and clearly regretting the phrasing of her question. She could ignore the slip-up and move onto business but... maybe the boys can stay put for a little longer.   
  
"Aava..." she begins, waiting for Aava's eyes to lock onto hers, dark and inviting, "Maybe we ought to continue our conversation over a  _private_  channel..." 


	9. Mutual Feminization - Tryst/Leenik - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "It starts with disguise drag; makeup and wigs, with the accompanying machismo and jokes. Then it gets softer and sweeter as they recognize that it's something they both need, in different ways and for different reasons. Tryst likes roleplaying (women are sexy, dangerous, deserving of the attention he craves); Leenik needs the part of his soul that is feminine (Tony's romance-reading pie-baking wine mom) to be seen. Why not do both at once?" 
> 
> Warnings: Mostly fluff, but Tryst is involved so: mentions of sex, violence & drugs. Swearing. 
> 
> ([DW](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=30724#cmt30724))

Tryst is drifting off to sleep after a long day, he's comfortably tucked beside Leenik under the covers, with Leenik's fingers stroking his long hair.   
  
He thinks Leenik is just as close to sleep when he says thoughtfully, "I think I might wear my wigs again. I miss them."  
  
Leenik's fingers keep playing with his hair as Tryst sleepily blinks up at him. "Cool," he says, and then settles back down against Leenik's chest. "You looked pretty in them."  
  
"Yeah?" Leenik says, kinda flustered.  
  
"Mmm hmm," Tryst says. "Even prettier now they'll have two beautiful bug eyes beneath them instead of one."  
  
" _Tryst,_ " Leenik whines, as if he's still unaccustomed to Tryst covering up his compliments with insults.   
  
"What?" Tryst huffs into Leenik's chest. "I called them beautiful, didn't I?"  
  
-  
  
The next morning, Tryst wakes after a peaceful sleep. He yawns and stretches and slowly comes to the realisation that Leenik's not beside him. Tryst frowns. Normally, he can't even  _move_  in the morning because there's a cuddling monster wrapped around his chest. He blinks into the daylight a few times and sleepily sits up in the bed, tying the loose kimono back around his waist.   
  
It's then he sees Leenik sat at the make-up table, longingly stroking the ends of the long blond wig in front of him. There are two others displayed on stands just behind it, as if they were also in the running before Tryst woke up.  
  
He pads his way over to Leenik and gives him a sleepy morning kiss on his cheek. "Mmm yeah," Tryst says, reaching out to touch the blond wig too, "I always liked that one too. Want me to help you put it on?"  
  
Leenik nods and spins in the chair, offering the wig out to Tryst. He takes it off the stand and kneels in front of Leenik, carefully placing it atop his head the way Leenik used to wear it, with his little antennae sticking out. Tryst smooths down the sides and leans back just enough to check that it's sat right. He looks beautiful. More like Leenik, weirdly.  
  
Leenik winces as Tryst studies him, "Is it not...?"  
  
"No," Tryst hurries to correct him. "It's perfect. You're perfect." He dives in for a kiss, still cradling Leenik's long hair with his hands.   
  
"Even with my bug eyes?" Leenik asks when he pulls away.   
  
Tryst glares good-naturedly. He should have known that was going to come back to bite him in the ass. "Even with your  _beautiful_  bug eyes," he adds and pulls Leenik into another kiss.   
  
-  
  
Leenik joins him that evening for a bubble bath. Bacta couldn't keep his mouth shut about the damn wig and it's made Leenik all on edge and self-conscious all over again. So, Tryst thought it was time to introduce Leenik to the relaxing power of baths now he's finally found some Rhodian-friendly bubbles.   
  
Leenik's having great fun building bubble mountains on Tryst's nipples and kissing him with soapy fingers, the ends of his wig dark with water, and Tryst doesn't even mind having someone else in his private bath time, except for the fact that he still hasn't shaved.   
  
"Hey," he says to Leenik, giving him a peck. "I normally shave while I'm in here. That cool?"  
  
"Oh," Leenik says. "Your legs? Yeah. I... Can I watch?"  
  
"Er, yeah, I guess."  
  
"Is that weird?"  
  
"No?" Tryst says because honestly his definition of 'weird' has changed twenty times since he met Leenik, so what's one more? "Yeah, that's cool."  
  
"Cool. I just like them, you know."  
  
"My legs?" Tryst asks, as he reaches for an old-fashioned disposable razor blade.   
  
"Yeah, when they're shaved. They feel nice. And look nice. When you wear dresses and stuff..."  
  
Tryst looks up from wetting the razor blade to see Leenik avoiding his eyes, not even playing with the bubbles, a deep yellow blush on his cheeks.   
  
Tryst clears his throat because he suddenly has trouble speaking. "I'm, er, happy to hear that, Nik."  
  
-  
  
They're shopping the next day for ship parts or something boring when Leenik stops in his tracks and urgently tugs on his hand.   
  
"What?" Tryst asks, spinning around with his hand on his blaster.   
  
Leenik points into a shop window - Dresses 4 U - where a stunning, sleek, navy ball gown is on display with a plunged neckline. Tryst relaxes, fingers slipping from his blaster as he admires the dress. "Wow."  
  
"It would look so good on you," Leenik whispers.   
  
Tryst absently nods, still very much mesmerised by the dress and the fantasy of him in it. Leenik's fingers are still interlocked with his.   
  
"What's this?" Bacta grumps, coming back to them. "Do we need dresses for something?"  
  
Leenik drops his hand.  
  
Lyn pipes up, "Wait, what? I thought weren't going undercover this time."  
  
"We're not," Tryst snaps, embarrassed at being caught. "It's nothing. Doesn't matter. Let's go."  
  
He walks away before he even checks to see if the others are following.   
  
-  
  
After a brief skirmish, they make it back onto the Mynock unharmed. Leenik's installing the new ship part - actually doing an engineering thing for once in his life - and after a quick snack, Tryst heads towards the bedroom to wait for him.  
  
Draped on the back of the chair by the make-up table is a very familiar navy fabric. "Oh no, you did not..." Tryst whispers in awe as he sprints over to the chair and picks up the silky smooth dress of his dreams. He makes an embarrassing noise of pure glee as he holds it to his chest and inhales the New Dress smell. He has no idea when Leenik managed to buy it, or with what money, but there's no doubt in his mind that it's from him.  
  
He tries it on straight away, spinning and twirling and practising karate kicks in the floor length mirror that Leenik installed on the wall. He feels beautiful and powerful and in desperate need of a pair of heels. Leenik returns just as Tryst is attempting to make the chest look a little more flattering. "I think it needs a bra..." he muses to the mirror as he squishes his two small breasts together to try to give the bust some volume.  
  
"Then we'll get you one," Leenik says as he strips off his grubby workman's clothes by the door. "Is it okay otherwise?"  
  
"I might need new shoes."  
  
Leenik laughs as he shrugs on an oversized t-shirt. "You're just saying that because you want new shoes."  
  
Tryst sighs, because, yeah, that's exactly what he wants. "You got me. Can we anyway?"  
  
Leenik comes over to Tryst, wrapping his arms around his middle and looking at their reflection in the mirror. He's gone for a mid-length red wig this evening, it's pretty, and it tickles his bare shoulder. "I'll try," he says, kissing Tryst's neck.  
  
Tryst leans back into it, closing his eyes as Leenik feels the fit of the dress himself. "What did you tell them?" he asks warily. The crew seem to be okay with their playful crossdressing and eccentricities when they're on a mission but this is... something else.   
  
Leenik shrugs. "I told Bacta we needed it. He made me promise it wasn't for kinky sex stuff though."   
  
Tryst frowns as he turns in Leenik's arms to face him. "That's weird. He  _knows_  you don't do kinky sex stuff... or, well, the sex stuff at least."   
  
Leenik shrugs. "It's not my fault if he conflated the two."   
  
Tryst bites his lip and he doesn't know if he's more turned on by the long word or the fact that Leenik Geelo has finally learned how to lie. "Oh baby, you say the  _hottest_  things."   
  
Leenik grins up at him, triumphant, before standing on tippy toes for a kiss. 

-

Leenik's been complaining about his diminishing make up supplies for weeks but they've kinda been on the run from the Empire and it's been pushed to the bottom of Bacta's list of "necessities" even though the only colour lipstick Leenik has left is bright blue. And, sure, that looks great on Leenik, totally complements his skintone and all, but it's not his favourite colour, and it's definitely not Tryst's favourite because after they've been making out it just looks like he's been punched black and blue.   
  
So, Tryst takes matters into his own hands and - urgh - calls his  _sister_. "Vous-Vous-"  
  
"I told you not to call me."  
  
"Do you think I would if it wasn't important?" Tryst counters.   
  
Over the comm, Vous-Vous's entire posture changes from annoyed to a terrifying stillness. "What do you need?" she asks, and she's so serious - like he's gonna ask her to kill a man or something - that he can't resist jumping straight in with:  
  
"Lipstick."  
  
"Lip...?" she baulks, and then glares. "Trystan! You idiotic-" She reaches over to turn off the comm.  
  
"No, no, no, wait! Please!" Tryst begs, literally holding his hands up as if that'll stop her. "I'm not joking around."  
  
Vous-Vous falls back in her chair in disbelief. "Lipstick. Lipstick is vital to your survival." She sighs. "Trystan, I don't even  _know_  anything about make-up."  
  
"I know, I know," Tryst says, and hurriedly brings up the list on his datapad of things he knows Leenik needs. "But I've got the list right here. This-" he says, pointing to an incredibly expensive brand of lipstick along with its production number - "is the most important one, if you can't get the rest."  
  
Vous-Vous raises her eyebrow, and after an eternity, waves her hand at the displayed list. "Send it over."   
  
Tryst grins triumphantly. It's not a "yes" but he knows she'll get it done. "I love you, sis."  
  
"Urgh."  
  
"Also!" Tryst shouts as she tries to disconnect. "You might want to call Bacta!"  
  
"Bye Trystan," she says with annoyance just before it disconnects.   
  
Tryst leans back in his captain's chair and stretches. That went  _very_  well.  
  
-  
  
Tryst doesn't ever want to find out how Vous-Vous found out about the bookclub but the lipstick arrives stuck onto Leenik's next delivery along with a very angry note: "More soon. YOU OWE ME."   
  
"Er... what's-?" Leenik begins to ask, but Bacta's nearby complaining about "security" or whatever and is likely to be a sourpuss about a) an illegal lipstick smuggling operation, and b) contacting Vous-Vous Valentine, so Tryst hurriedly reaches over and grabs the package from Leenik's hands.   
  
"Hey!" Leenik cries out, "That's mine!"  
  
"Shhh shh," Tryst urges in a whisper, hurrying them down the hall. "You can have it, I promise, just  _not here_."   
  
He pushes them into their bedroom and locks the door behind them before giving the parcel back to Leenik who's been grabbing for it this whole time.   
  
"Is this...?" he asks. "Is this something to do with you?"   
  
Then he sighs, disappointed, as he peels the smaller package away from the wrapped book. "Did you order your happy pills again? You know if Lyn finds out she'll-"  
  
"No, no, it's not drugs. Just..." Tryst sighs. He's suddenly really nervous. He was so sure of the colour and the brand and the fact that Leenik even  _wanted_  some incredibly overpriced lipstick but now he's filled with doubts. "Just open it," he says finally.   
  
Leenik frowns at him in confusion, but does as he's told, his face turning from confusion to joy as he registers what it is.  
  
Tryst rubs the back of his neck nervously. "I just... saw it months ago. Thought it was your colour. And you've been missing that dark red you had..."  
  
"You smuggled me lipstick?" he says in awe.  
  
"Well, yeah."   
  
"'More soon,'" he reads from the note. "Tryst, are you smuggling me  _make up_?"  
  
Tryst definitely does not blush because he is a Valentine, but it's something close. He begins to say "yes" but he barely gets past the first letter before Leenik is pushing him against the nearest wall and kissing him senseless.   
  
-  
  
When the rest of Vous-Vous's stash arrives a week later, Tryst and Leenik spend the afternoon in their pyjamas playing with the new make up set.   
  
Leenik has smudged some blue eyeshadow alongisde Tryst's usual eyeliner ("to go with your dress!") and Tryst has chosen a pale pink shimmer lip gloss for himself. He also attempted to paint the Rhodian blusher on Leenik's cheeks but conceded somewhere along the lines that Leenik is  _much_  better at this than him and let him take over.   
  
Sure, Vous-Vous kinda threatened them into running a dangerous mission for her in return and Bacta got  _really_  mad about it, but seeing Leenik all made-up and proudly wearing that deep red lipstick makes it all worth it.  
  
Tryst leans into Leenik and presses a kiss into his blond hair. "You look stunning, Leenik," he says, cradling his faux-yellow cheeks. "I'm not just saying that. You're... just really beautiful."  
  
A real blush comes through under the blusher and Tryst leans in for a kiss, somehow made better by the fact that they both have painted lips.   
  
Leenik keeps it chaste, probably not wanting to ruin the make up, and Tryst pulls away just enough to rub his hands over Leenik's clothed arm. "I'm curious: Do you want to wear dresses too?"  
  
"Hmmm," Leenik says in thought. "No, I don't think so. I like my clothes."  
  
"You just like the hair and the make-up?"  
  
"And jewellery. I like jewellery."   
  
And  _oh shit_  if that doesn't give Tryst ideas. His eyes automatically fall down to Leenik's open shirt and can see how beautiful a dainty little necklace would look there. He swallows and looks back up to Leenik. "Cool," he says.   
  
"And you like dresses and heels and... other stuff?"  
  
Other stuff meaning things like lace underwear and padded bras, Tryst knows. "Yeah," he says, "and sometimes make up."  
  
Leenik smiles and reaches over to play with Tryst's hair, plaiting a little section at the front. "Does that include nails?"  
  
"Babe, you  _know_  that includes nails. Just don't paint them all sparkley this time, it totally gave away our position when we were scouting last week."  
  
"But they looked so pretty!"  
  
" _Nik_."  
  
"Okay, okay," Leenik concedes, slumping beside Tryst. "Nothing so pretty it'll get us killed."

-

They're waiting for Tryst's nails to dry, in theory, when Bacta calls for dinner. Leenik pulls away from their make out session with a disappointed sigh and reaches for the make-up wipes beside them.  
  
"Wait," Tryst says, reaching out to stop Leenik's hand. "You don't have to."  
  
"We're covered in make-up, Tryst." Then he looks at Tryst, whose lip gloss is no doubt long gone and whose smudged eyeshadow has probably become too smudged to see. "Or,  _I_  am, at least. They'll notice."  
  
"Let them notice," Tryst whispers.   
  
Bacta calls for dinner again and they both shout back in unison, "COMING!" and hear him pad away again.  
  
Tryst sighs. "Look, I know you feel self-conscious about this stuff around them but they're our family, right? And this is a big part of you. Besides, if Bacta's a jerk to you then you can just punch him with that scary robot arm of yours."  
  
Leenik glares.  
  
" _Beautiful_  scary robot arm of yours," Tryst corrects. "But, come on, you know I'm right. They'd want you to be yourself around them."  
  
Leenik's antennae twist a little with anxiety as he thinks about it, then he looks back up with determination. "Okay," he says. "I'll wear the make up, if you wear that dress."  
  
Tryst grins. "I would  _love_  to wear the dress."  
  
-  
  
Leenik is visibly nervous as they approach the kitchen. They can hear Bacta, Lyn and Tamlin fooling around as they prepare dinner, even Tony barking in the distance for scraps. Their family.   
  
Tryst takes Leenik's hand.  
  
Leenik looks at him like he's the one with giant bug eyes, which, okay,  _fair_. It's not like Tryst makes a habit of being all cuddly with Leenik outside their bedroom walls, but this is weirdly scary and he needs Leenik to remember they're in it together.   
  
The conversation drops as they enter the room. Bacta is standing over the pan, comically still holding a spoon as it drips sauce onto the floor.   
  
"Oh," he says awkwardly. "Don't you two look... formal."  
  
"We thought we'd, uh, dress up," Tryst says. "To celebrate the start of a new mission you know?"  
  
This seems to wake Bacta up. "Oh you mean the incredibly dangerous mission that your  _insane_  sister conned us into taking because you made her smuggle you vitally important  _lipstick_? You mean  _that_  mission that is  _entirely_  your fault?"  
  
"Yeah, that one," Tryst shrugs as he ignores Bacta's ranting and slides into the booth.  
  
Lyn tilts her head as she studies Leenik, who's still hovering kinda nervously in the doorway. "It is  _very_  pretty lipstick though. What colour did you say it was, Leenik?"  
  
"No!" Bacta interjects. "We are  _not_  encouraging this behaviour."   
  
"What?" Leenik squeaks, indignant. "Can't a male Rhodian enjoy wearing make up from time to time? What's wrong with-?"  
  
"Not  _that_  behaviour," Bacta says exasperated as he goes back to stirring the sauce. "I mean  _finding extremely dangerous methods to smuggle non-essential items onto_ -"  
  
"Oh,  _that_  behaviour," Tryst says nonchalantly as he props his feet onto the table and Lyn knocks them straight off again. "Yeah, there's nothing I can do about that."   
  
"Yes,  _that_  behaviour," Bacta emphasises as he serves up a disgusting looking stew. "What? You think I'd have a problem seeing you in a dress? Because, honestly, I'm just thankful you're wearing something for once. As for you, Leenik, you look very pretty."  
  
"Yeah!" Tamlin pipes up, crawling atop of Tryst's lap to sit in the middle of him and Lyn. "And you gotta do my nails next, Uncle Leenik, you  _promised_."  
  
"Okay, buddy," Bacta says to Tamlin. "But you've gotta sit still this time, okay? I am  _not_  spending my night cleaning up nail varnish again."  
  
Tryst watches Leenik stand there, seemingly on the edge of tears, before he practically barrels into Bacta to give him a hug.  
  
"This is all very heartwarming," Lyn says, not sounding like she means it at all, "But I'm hungry. Can we get back to dinner please?"  
  
There's a bark from Tony as if he agrees, and then it's just a normal Mynock dinner, with food, and laughter, and ceremonial sword fights.   
  
-  
  
Leenik is still smiling when they go to bed that night. "I don't know why I thought they'd have a problem," he muses as she shuffles against Tryst under the covers, trying to get comfy. "Bacta even called me  _pretty_."  
  
"That's because you  _are_  pretty, pretty."   
  
Leenik hits him softly. "Yeah, but you know... thanks," he says, nervously toying with his fingers. "If it weren't for you I don't know if I ever would have... I dunno, admitted that I wanted those things. Is that weird to say?"  
  
Tryst shrugs. "Nothing you ever say is weird to me - "  
  
"Tony is my son."  
  
"Other than that," Tryst amends. "Obviously. I mean, he's a  _giant space wolf_ , I-" Tryst takes a deep breath, because he is  _not_  having this argument again. "But I'm just... glad you can tell me stuff. And you did the same for me, you know?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah, totally. I think we make a pretty cool team."   
  
"A pretty  _pretty_  team."  
  
"Oh, no," Tryst says seriously, burrowing down to look Leenik straight in the eyes. "A  _very_  pretty team."

 


	10. Shower Sex - Bacta/Leenik/Tryst/Lyn - E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "the group showers become a habit and then they get frisky"
> 
> ([DW](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=41988#cmt41988))
> 
> Couple of notes: For the sake of my sanity, all alien anatomy in this fic is uncannily similar to human anatomy. (Who knew?) Secondly, Leenik is demisexual in this one (or “Tryst-sexual” as he calls it) so if you like your Leenik asexual, you might want to skip this one. Relatedly, if you want to skip the PWP and go straight to the fluffy ending, read from "They get roped" (which, uh, I realise doesn't _sound_ PG but I swear it is). Thirdly, yes, I did invent a sex toy. WTF is the point in writing SF if you don’t get to invent a magic space dildo once in awhile.

Lyn knew Tryst would make the group showers sexual before long but she also thought that the others would at least _pretend_ to protest the idea for a little longer before eagerly accepting.

Ever since they got the new ship and its single, large, open-plan fresher (thanks to a misunderstanding between Leenik and Bzzzx) the adults of the Mynock had gotten into the habit of showering together. It was a logical solution to their problem. After all, there was only so many times you could bear squelching across the wet floor to brush your teeth and squinting through the steam to apply your make-up in the fogged mirror every single morning before someone proposed a shower schedule. And the best schedule just happened to work out as a single shared shower before Tamlin and Tony woke up. 

Lyn was amazed that Tryst managed to keep his hands to himself for almost an entire week before he started dropping hints the size of anvils. 

He started by giving Leenik a little peck as they left the shower one morning - just an innocent little kiss, nothing they hadn't done before - but then the next day Tryst “accidentally” dropped the soap, and on his way back up, “just happened” to brush up against Bacta's penis.

It was _completely_ unsubtle. 

And so the next morning when they all pile in, Lyn says to him very firmly, "No funny business." 

Tryst acts offended. "Like I’d ever-"

" _Trystan._ "

Tryst rolls his eyes and raises his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I promise. No fun in the shower. Got it. You're safe from the Tryst Valentine Treatment anyway, remember?" 

Lyn is taken aback for a moment but... that's true. Ever since she told him he was making her uncomfortable and asked him to stop his advances, he has. He still makes the odd joke from time to time but she knows he wouldn't touch her unasked. 

"Huh," she says, as she watches his naked form walk ahead of her into the shower. Maybe he will behave after all.

Her optimism lasts for a full two minutes before _Bacta_ of all people gives him an opening, "Hey buddy, you've got a little-"

And then he's reaching over and cupping Tryst's cheek to wipe some suds away. His voice is entirely too soft. His hand loiters for entirely too long.

And then Tryst looks up through his eyelashes and says in a sultry voice, "Oh yeah? Anywhere else its-"

"Okay!" Lyn interrupts before it can escalate. "I'm done!" 

She shuts off the water to Leenik's annoyance and practically runs out of the shower. 

-

The next day it's _Leenik_ that can't behave. He offers Tryst a massage which isn't really out of the ordinary because they all sometimes do it for each other, but his hands are working slower than usual and Tryst is making these _sounds_ that make her wet in places that _should definitely not be wet right now thank you very much_ and then Leenik bends his head and his lips brush against Tryst's neck... 

Tryst _moans_.

Bacta licks his lips. 

Lyn blushes. 

"It's okay," Tryst grins over at her as Leenik nibbles at his neck, his eyes all dark and seductive, "He's gluten-free."

"I'm done!" Lyn squeaks, perhaps not even audible, as she runs out of the fresher this time. She doesn't look back to see if the others follow.

-

The next day is awkward. Bacta isn't looking _anyone_ in the eye as he skulks naked to the shower. From this Lyn knows that something clearly happened in yesterday's shower and she's really emotionally conflicted over it. There's even a small part of her that wishes she stayed, and maybe even... No. _Come on, Lyntel,_ she schools herself, _Stay strong_.

The fact that all of a sudden she has to "stay strong" is not lost on her, but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't touched herself yesterday to the memory of Tryst's little moan. She's attracted to her crewmates, she knows that, but she's also in control of her instincts and doesn't want to end up in the same awkward position as Bacta seems to be in this morning. 

But then, when they enter the shower, Bacta comes to stand _next_ to Tryst, not avoiding him at all, and when Tryst asks Bacta to give him a massage, Bacta _blushes_.

 _Oh,_ Lyn thinks, _They haven't fallen out at all. The opposite._

Lyn must have frozen in shock because Bacta looks up at her over Tryst's shoulders, finally looking in her eyes, and Lyn has to look away at the desire that she sees. 

_Pull yourself together, Lyntel._

"Hey, Lyn?" Leenik asks, and Lyn nearly jumps out her skin. "Do you want me to wash your lekku?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Thank you, Leenik." 

She thinks it will work as a distraction from whatever's going on between Bacta and Tryst but then it works _too_ well and she finds herself sighing in pleasure at the gentle feel of Leenik's fingers massaging her lekku. 

She's so relaxed that the feel of Leenik's lips against her neck - as he did to Tryst only yesterday - feels so natural. Just a chaste little kiss to say that he's finished. 

She opens her eyes to see Tryst kissing Bacta in a very un-Tryst kinda way. Kinda sweet, kinda serious, kinda chaste. 

She frowns.

"Shhh," Leenik whispers in her ear, "Let them have this. They kinda rushed into it yesterday."

"Oh," Lyn says because she has no idea what you're meant to say in a situation like this.

"It's okay if you don't want to do anything," Leenik continues. "They'll let you watch."

Tryst breaks off the kiss to groan something that Lyn assumes is an affirmation. 

"That’s, uh, very sweet..." Lyn says, again not having any idea what to say. "But, uh, that's not really the issue for me." (Sadly, the heat rapidly building between her legs testifies as much.) 

Bacta breaks the kiss to turn towards her and ask, "So what is?" 

Lyn notices that even though they’ve stopped kissing, Bacta and Tryst’s bodies are still very much pressed together and their penises are not exactly flaccid. She swallows and looks up, as if the white ceiling tiles will grant her mercy from the situation.

"I, uh," she tries but she feels herself flushing and the hot water on her skin isn't helping, "just don't think it's ever a good idea to, uh, fool around with colleagues."

"Oh," all three of them seem to say with realisation at once, "Zara."

" _No_ ,” she corrects forcefully, annoyed enough to even forget about the awkward sexual situation for a minute, “This is _not_ about Zara. This is a common, universally accepted-”

Tryst snorts.

Bacta shrugs. “If you’re not attracted to us, it’s okay-”

“That’s not it.”

“Oh?” Tryst pipes up with interest.

Lyn winces because she’s basically just told Tryst she fancies him, which while not strictly _untrue_ was definitely not her intention. She blushes all over again and looks to Leenik for help but he’s just smiling knowingly at her and when she turns back to the others, she realises why.

Tryst has moved directly in front of her, smiling that damn charming smile. “Lyn, I think I speak for everyone-”

“You probably don’t,” Bacta interrupts from over his shoulder.

“ _I think I speak for everyone,_ ” Tryst tries again, “when I say that we love that you care enough about us to worry that our friendships might be compromised…”

“Oh, I was wrong,” Bacta says. “He _does_ speak for all of us.” 

“Yeah,” Leenik pipes up from behind her, “That’s actually quite a nice thing to say, Tryst.”

Tryst tilts his his head and Lyn senses the “but” from that gesture alone. “Buuuut,” he says, drawing it out, and stepping so close to Lyn that she can see the water collecting on his eyelashes and dripping across his lips. She can feel the body heat building between them, pulling her in like a magnet… “if that’s your only objection, I’d say join the party already.”

He’s so _pretty_ like this that she can’t even be mad.

She hears Bacta sigh but her eyes don’t seem to want to leave Tryst’s. “Well,” she hears Bacta mutter a thousand miles away, “That could have been more delicate.” 

Tryst’s tongue comes out to lick the moisture from his lips and Lyn’s eyes are drawn to it like a beacon. 

“I don’t know,” Tryst says, and her traitorous eyes follow every movement of those beautiful lips, “I don’t think our girl likes it _delicate_.”

And seriously? _Kriff_ this.

She lunges forward, grabbing his head in her hands as she goes, and pressing her lips forcefully against his as they crash into the shower wall. 

“Oh my god,” she hears Leenik whimper with excitement. 

Tryst is still recovering from the movement so she takes the advantage and pushes her tongue through his slack lips, kissing him deeply and wetly, and pushing her naked body firmly against his until she can feel his length rapidly hardening against her. 

By the time she pulls back, he looks utterly _wrecked_. Lyn smirks. 

“Holy… Anakin Skywalker,” he whispers in awe. “That was even better than the hundred and fifty two kisses I imagined.”

Bacta interrupts, “A hundred and-?”

“Oh, come on,” Tryst says, still trying to recover his breath, “like you haven’t fantasized about kissing Lyn.” 

“Not a hundred and fifty two times I haven’t,” Bacta says, his arms folded, which looks ridiculous when he’s naked and half hard. 

Lyn pushes away from the quivering wreck of Tryst and turns her smirk onto Bacta. “No? How many times then?”

For once, Bacta seems speechless.

Leenik excitedly says “Oh _kriff_ ,” like this is the best entertainment in the galaxy. 

Bacta is still opening and closing his mouth repeatedly like he’ll just be able to catch some words floating in the air. “Seventy-two?” he squeaks. 

She scowls, mock-offended.

“Don’t look at me,” Leenik says before she can ask, propping his head on her shoulder in camaraderie, “No offense but I’m mostly just Tryst-sexual.”

Tryst grins like he’s won the karking lottery, the egotistical asshole. 

“Bacta’s got no excuse though,” Leenik adds. “He clearly likes you.”

“Clearly,” Tryst adds. “He just needs to try harder.”

“Umm hmm,” Leenik agrees.

Bacta goes from looking nervous to offended, which is much more his style. He confidently squares his shoulders, “Hey! I like Lyn plenty. Maybe I’ve just got less material to work with since she’s never kissed me-”

He’s so busy arguing with Tryst that he doesn’t even seem to see her coming at him from the right. He freezes as soon as her lips meet the corner of his, then he’s groaning and turning his face towards hers, moving his lips to form a proper kiss. He’s a good kisser as it happens, long and deep and consuming. And polite. He keeps his distance and his hips angled and waits for her to deepen the kiss before he even places his hands on her waist.

She has no idea how much time has passed when they come up for air to find Tryst sweetly making out with Leenik against the wall, oddly delicate for him; his hands staying strictly PG even though Leenik is clearly very into it. 

Now Bacta has permission to touch her, he’s touching everything in reach, and as much as she’s fascinated by whatever’s going on between Leenik and Tryst, it’s _really_ hard to focus when Bacta stoops to pay even more attention to her breasts. 

She groans and it must break Tryst’s concentration because he blindly swivels Leenik so he can see what’s going on and it must look good because he makes some kinda muffled groan. “Okay, please, can I-?” he starts, and it says something about Lyn’s state of mind that she doesn’t even care how that sentence ends. She nods rapidly. 

Tryst kisses Leenik’s cheek and then takes his hand as he moves towards them. Bacta breaks away from Lyn and shuffles to her side to make room as Tryst comes to stand before her with a hesitant Leenik in his shadow. 

The hot air seems to vibrate with energy as they all hang suspended in this moment, eagerly awaiting Tryst’s next move. The tension breaks, suddenly, when Tryst falls to his knees. 

“ _Oh,_ Leenik says excitedly. Lyn can only agree as Tryst looks up at her with his dark eyes through his water-heavy eyelashes, asking for permission. 

And who in the galaxy would be strong enough to say no to Tryst Valentine _on his knees_?

She eagerly nods.

He wastes no time; his tongue diving between her folds, his thumb coming to rub at her clit, and Lyn’s entire brain seems to go offline, taken over by sudden, intense pleasure.

She must cry out because Bacta turns her head and kisses her deeply to muffle her cries. She moans into the kiss as the shock of being touched is replaced by pure pleasure. Tryst is _relentless_ and she feels her climax building so quickly it’s scary. 

She breaks away from the kiss to tell him as such when Tryst moans into her and she gasps at the feel of the vibrations against her sensitive skin. She forces her eyes open again to find Leenik’s fingers woven in Tryst’s hair, urging him on, and no wonder he moaned because Leenik is doing things against his scalp with his suction-cup fingers that must feel _divine_. 

“ _Tryst,_ ” she gasps a warning. 

He murmurs something against her that might be “I know” and moves his lips to her clit instead, sucking intently. 

Lyn swears and flails for something to hold onto as her entire world starts to narrow in intense pleasure. She ends up grasping onto Bacta’s arms that are now pinned tight around her waist, her nails digging into ink-covered skin. He’s behind her now. She can feel his hardness pressed against her back. 

She’s rocking back into it when she’s caught off guard by Tryst thrusting his fingers into her core. She cries out. He goes straight for her G-spot, rubbing relentlessly against the sensitive skin as he sucks her clit to the same rhythm. Lyn struggles to keep breathing, her every word a curse, as she feels her climax suddenly overtake her. 

She comes back down to the sight of Tryst’s triumphant grin as his fingers lazily coax the last of her orgasm out of her. Bacta is kissing her neck, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against her stomach where his strong arms are locked around her waist, keeping her standing as her legs weaken post-orgasm. 

She sighs contently, resting her head back on Bacta’s shoulder. She’s so blissed out she can’t even make herself care that Tryst will be gloating about this for months to come. 

Lyn’s just coming back into awareness, making half-baked plans to even up the score, when they hear a little voice coming from outside the fresher.

“Don’t come in, little buddy!” Bacta shouts to Tamlin as he rapidly disentangles from Lyn, rather needlessly, as they had obviously locked the fresher door. “It must have gotten late,” he mutters, hurriedly jumping out the shower to find a towel.

“Urgh,” Leenik mutters as he steps away from Tryst, “Tamlin has the _worst_ timing.”

“See, this is why we need to jump straight to the sex,” Tryst says, lazily standing and washing his face in the cascading water. “There was far too much talking about feelings today. Tomorrow, we get straight to it.”

“Agreed,” Leenik says.

Bacta grumbles as he ties a towel around his waist, with a very obvious boner concealed beneath it, but it still sounds very much like an agreement. 

And this is when Lyn realises that it’s going to be a _regular thing_.

-

True to his word, Tryst wastes no time the next morning; as soon as the fresher door is closed and locked, he picks up Lyn by her waist and pins her to the shower wall, kissing her deeply. She gasps a little in surprise but her legs instinctively come to wrap around his waist, pressing him against her.

He growls against her neck. No doubt he can already feel her wetness against him. She’d more or less woken up wet, excited by the promise of another round. She may even have teased herself a little on the way here, a finger or two making sure she was nice and ready. 

Tryst rocks his hips towards her, seemingly as eager she is, already hardening between her legs.

Bacta appears beside them with a sigh. “You could’ve at least turned the water on.” 

He does so, and _oh_ how much better their bodies move together when it’s lubricated by warm rushing water. Tryst barely even lets up to grumble at Bacta as he ruts against her. 

Over Tryst’s shoulder, Lyn sees Leenik shyly enter the shower and she freezes on an inhale. _Oh kriff,_ Lyn thinks, _Were we meant to leave Tryst for Leenik?_ She has no idea what Leenik’s boundaries are and it’s really hard to think clearly when Tryst is brushing up against her clit every other movement. 

But she needn’t have worried because Bacta must have sensed it too. “You okay there, buddy?” he asks, reaching for Leenik. “Want me to get your back?” 

Lyn sees Leenik relax at the semblance of a non-sexual routine, and he lets Bacta massage his back, both of them seemingly happy to leave Tryst and Lyn to the more, uh, _animalistic_ activities. 

Tryst tilts his head against her chest, and she realises that he must have been subtly watching too, making sure that Leenik was okay with it. It’s oddly sweet. He’s fully hard now, still rocking against her, and gasping raggedly against her neck. “Please,” he begs. “Please can I fuck you?”

Distantly, she hears Bacta moan, and knows that he’s watching, which makes her impossibly more turned on. 

She rapidly nods her head against him and spreads her legs around his hips the best she can as an invitation. 

He doesn’t need telling twice. 

He thrusts inside her in one quick, smooth movement. She cries out. It’s a lot to take at once but she was _so_ ready for it. She feels him throbbing inside her as her walls adjust to his girth. It feels so good but so _full_. Tight. Intense.

“Are you-?” he asks, looking horrified that he may have accidentally hurt her.

“I’m fine,” she hurriedly says on an exhale. “Just...a minute.”

He grunts against her, his lips falling to her collarbone and his eyes softly falling onto Leenik’s, as she lets herself adjust. Soon it’s more torturous to stay still than to move and she brings him back to her with a tap on the shoulder.

He follows her silent command and raises his head from her chest, kissing her deeply again, as he begins to slowly move within her. Every movement makes her sees stars. It’s been so long since someone’s been inside her like this and she forgot how amazing it is to feel that intimate drag of skin against skin so deep inside. It’s the kind of slow, steady, pleasure that she could indulge in for hours. 

Tryst is forever impatient though. He gasps at the first movements, moving slowly, testing the feel, but as soon as she relaxes into it, he adjusts his grip on her hips and picks up the pace, setting a hard and fast rhythm.

It’s so _good_ though and Lyn tangles her fingers in Tryst’s hair to hold on for dear life as he thrusts repeatedly into her, angling his hips just right until she too is gasping out in pleasure.

She locks her legs tighter around his hips, pushing him even deeper, as she moves with him.

Bacta and Leenik are murmuring encouragements as they watch and their words become part of the overwhelming hum of pleasure. Tryst is breathing raggedly at her neck, his lips occasionally finding hers for a messy kiss, his long wet hair tickling her skin. 

He grunts as his hips piston into her and his grip becomes careless, driven by desperation. “Lyn,” he gasps. “I can’t- I’m so- I’m so close-”

“I know,” she says, moving her fingers through his hair in comfort before they clench in pleasure at the end of his next thrust. “Me too,” she gasps.

“OhthankForce,” he says and drops any kind of pretence, mindlessly rutting into her.

She moans at the change in pace, and keeps her fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on, as she feels her pleasure grow. She throws her head back against the shower wall when she feels him shudder and come inside her, his teeth digging into her neck spurring on her own orgasm.

Her mind falls blissfully silent, a litany of nonsense murmurs from her mouth, and only when she is back to standing on two very shaky legs does she realise that Tryst Valentine has given her a _hickey_.

-

The next day, it’s Lyn that walks into the shower with a plan because it occurred to her that Bacta has spent the last two days wanting and it’s past time he got the attention he deserved. 

It’s good timing too, because Leenik has decided he’s “up for stuff” today and Tryst is utterly distracted by the idea, making out with _intent_ against the shower wall.

She sidles up to Bacta to give him a back massage as he watches the other two. She’s not gonna lie, it’s a good view, but not exactly what she’s after today. 

“Hey,” she whispers into his shoulder, following it up with a little kiss. “I wanna give you some attention today, that okay?”

“Uh,” Bacta says as eloquently as ever. “Yeah?” He clears his throat. “If that’s, uh-”

She fights the urge to roll her eyes and makes the decision for him, reaching around to give him a much lower _massage_.

He whimpers and bucks into her touch, which she takes as his very enthusiastic consent as she strokes him to hardness.

The sounds Bacta are making must be distracting enough even for Leenik, who looks over to them with wide eyes. “That looks good,” he says, before turning back to Tryst with enthusiasm. “Can we try that?”

“Huh?” Tryst asks, before he seems to break out of Leenik’s spell and look over to Bacta and Lyn, and the sentence must finally fall into place. His eyebrows raise. He licks his lips. It honestly looks like Lifeday has come early for him. Tryst eagerly nods his head as he returns to Leenik. “Uh-huh. We can try that.”

Lyn twists her hand on the upstroke as a reward for Bacta being such great inspiration. He moans, and she has no idea if it’s because of her movement or because it happens to be the exact moment Tryst cautiously begins to touch Leenik and Leenik jolts as if touched by lightning.

“ _Oh,_ ” Leenik says in awe. “That’s _good_.”

“Yeah?” Tryst grins.

She watches as Tryst carefully increases his grip and his speed and Leenik starts to make noises Lyn has never heard from him before. It’s clearly the first time Leenik has been touched like this and she’s honoured to be witnessing it.

Her arm is beginning to ache though from the awkward angle and there’s something else she’d rather be doing. She nudges Bacta with her nose to get his attention and then attempts to signal, with her hand still lazily pumping his cock, that she wants them to move. 

He seems to understand, shuffling out the way as she moves around him, before falling to her knees.

“Oh,” Bacta manages to say before she takes his cock in her mouth and his words turn into a string of groans.

“Oh, cool,” she hears Tryst comment from behind her, before presumably going back to Leenik. She’s lost sight of them but when she looks up, she sees that Bacta’s eyes are still flickering between her and them, and knows that he’s enjoying the show at least. 

He feels thick and heavy on her tongue and she takes it nice and slow, wanting to savour it. His hands cautiously come to cup her head before he seems to relax into it and instead lovingly strokes his hands down her lekku, which before now, Lyn never would have thought as sexy, yet alone enough to make her moan; enough to make her _wet_. 

After some minutes, Bacta moans her name in a way she can’t ignore and she looks up through her lashes to see him. 

“I…” he starts. “It’s not that I’m not… But I’d like…”

She drags her teeth a little on the next movement, just to bring him to the kriffing point.

It seems to work.

He flails a little, his eyes blown wide, and then he blurts, “I’d like to touch you.” 

And, _oh_. Okay. 

She gives his cock a parting kiss and rises to her feet. 

He wastes no time, his hands moving from her lekku, to her breasts, to her waist, and then finally cupping her mound. 

She hums at the feel and he uses his other hand to pull her into deep, wet, kiss. She groans and then groans louder when he begins to move his hand against her. His fingers slip between her folds, rubbing gently at her clit before moving back and against her wetness. He repeats the movements several times until she’s gasping and desperate for more. 

“Please,” she hears herself beg. “Inside me.”

Bacta moans and slowly walks her back to the shower wall. She hears a moan in tandem and looks across, just as her head hits the wall, to see Tryst and Leenik across from her, both looking utterly wrecked. Tryst has Leenik pressed against the wall and their cocks both in his hand, slowly being jerked off together. They moan with every, slow, tortuous movement. 

Lyn watches, transfixed, until Bacta presses close against her and pulls her into another filthy kiss.

She then forgets everything entirely when she feels one of his thick fingers breech her folds. She sighs in relief at finally being touched, her arms reaching to loop around his neck for support. She murmurs encouragements against his neck as he begins to move his finger cautiously inside her. 

Bacta’s taking his time with her as she did with him, learning the nuances of her body. He shifts his hand against her, trying to go deeper, and that’s when he brushes against her most sensitive area. She moans uncontrollably, and Bacta’s smart enough to keep at it, the pad of his fingertip rubbing against her wall over and over.

It’s too much. She flails in an attempt at communication as she can no longer speak. 

He retreats until she can gasp, “Another.”

Bacta nods rapidly. He adds a second finger, not rubbing her so intently again, simply stretching her. And then, a third. 

By this point, things with Tryst and Leenik are getting intense. She looks across to see Tryst’s hand moving quickly and messily, their mouths pressed against each other, but more breathing than kissing, and then, a surprised shout as Leenik comes all over their hands, Tryst not far behind.

Lyn’s so turned on at this point, she can’t stand it. She grasps Bacta and manhandles him into position behind her, the instruction very clear: _Please kriff me into his wall._

Bacta grunts but then proceeds to enter her so kriffing slowly that her fingernails rake against the wall in frustration. She can feel every centimeter of movement and it’s _torture_.

“Oh my god,” Tryst whispers. 

Lyn twists her head so she’s looking back at Tryst, still wrapped up in Leenik’s arms, but eyes fixed resolutely on where Bacta and Lyn join. 

He licks his lips, seemingly transfixed on the sight. “That looks so good, oh my god, someone has _got_ to fuck me tomorrow.”

Bacta finally bottoms out and Lyn breathes a sigh of relief. “I will,” she says.

Tryst splutters. “What’s that?”

Lyn attempts to squash her frustration as Bacta seems to have frozen behind her. “I _said_ I’ll fuck you. I assume you have something we can use?”

Tryst opens his mouth a couple of times without making any noise.

Leenik frowns and swivels Tryst’s face towards his before nodding and making the assessment, “I think you broke Tryst.”

Tryst shakes his head, dislodging Leenik’s fingers from his chin. “What? No, I’m-” He swallows visibly. “Cool. Cool cool cool. Yeah, I have something we can use. Magic space dildo. Smart-vibrator and everything.”

“Wait,” Bacta says from behind her, and she grinds her teeth in frustration and rocks back against him because _they’ve done enough waiting thank you very much_. “As in, the strap-on that auto-vibrates in line with your movements? And has, like, pressure sensors or something? Aren’t they _super_ expensive?”

And okay that sounds _amazing_ but this is _not the time_. She tries to work herself back on Bacta’s cock but she’s got no leverage and he’s holding her frustratingly still. She groans. 

Tryst shrugs. “Worth it.”

“Oh, you’ve used it?” Bacta asks with interest.

“Well, no, but-”

“Wait,” Leenik says, in what is rapidly becoming Lyn’s least-favourite word. “Does that mean you’ve just had this thing… lying around, just _waiting_ for-?”

“I’m an optimist!” Tryst defends. 

Lyn groans loudly enough to get their attention. “Really, boys? _Now?_ Now is the time to discuss this? REALLY?!” 

Tryst looks back at her with wide eyes, before his eyes flicker downwards and he seems to remember that before he spoke, Bacta had been ready to plough her straight into the wall. “Oh! Sorry! Sorry, _please_ continue.” 

“Oh I see,” Lyn drawls sarcastically, “now that we have your _permission_ -” but her sentence falters on a gasp when Bacta rocks straight against her G-spot. 

Bacta then grasps her hips and begins thrusting in earnest, long strokes that quickly turn faster and harder. 

“I’m sorry,” a smug Tryst says when he knows Lyn is past gone, “What were you saying?” 

Lyn pries one of her hands from the shower wall to give Tryst the finger but doesn’t even look to see the message has been received before she’s reaching back and placing her hand over Bacta’s, showing him exactly the angle she wants. 

Soon, they’re going at it so hard that Bacta’s other hand covers hers on the wall, giving them the leverage they need to just rut like animals. 

Every single thrust is hitting her where she needs it to and it doesn’t take long before they’re both gasping warnings and he’s pummelling her through her orgasm. 

He’s saying her name like a prayer as he jerks and comes inside her a minute later, collapsing against her. 

Tryst whistles appreciatively. “What a show. I’m telling you guys we should sell tickets.”

“No!” all three say at once.

-

As annoyed as Lyn was about the timing of yesterday’s discussion of Tryst’s “magic space dildo” the next day she wakes up incredibly excited to try it. 

The boys must have been similarly excited because they’re already in the shower when she arrives, the promised strap-on lying forgotten at their feet.

It’s a good view if she’s being honest; Leenik and Tryst indulging in a little frottage while Bacta kneels behind Tryst, steadily working him open with lubricated fingers. 

She times her entrance just as Bacta adds a third finger and Tryst breaks away from Leenik’s lips with a moan, pushing back onto Bacta’s fingers and sighing his name. Bacta gently bites his butt cheek in response, presumably to chide Tryst for getting distracted but naturally it has the opposite effect and Tryst moans even louder. 

Lyn can’t help but rub herself as she undresses, knowing that the boys must have gotten here earlier just to prepare Tryst for her. 

Tryst already looks wrecked. He must _really_ like being fucked, and she can’t wait to experience it first-hand.

She enters the shower and Bacta stands up to greet her. It must drive his fingers even deeper because Tryst makes a noise like he’s _dying_ and it goes straight to her groin. Bacta leaves a sweet little kiss on his neck, and then leans over him to give Lyn a good morning kiss. “I got him ready for you.”

“I see that,” she says with a smile, stroking his cheek. “Thank you.” 

He _blushes_ which is ridiculous under the circumstances and makes it all the more cuter. She bites her lip and turns to her left to greet the other half of Tryst’s warm-up team. 

Leenik’s got his arms around Tryst’s neck, pressed tight against him and their hard cocks caught between their hot and wet bodies, but their movements have calmed since her entrance, just slowly rocking together now. 

She reaches over and cups Leenik’s head, stroking his cheek as she did with Bacta. His eyes flutter closed at the touch. She’s learnt his limits now - he’ll only do “stuff” with Tryst, but he loves being touched affectionately by her and Bacta; loves cuddles and forehead kisses and massages. “And thank you,” she says sincerely, leaning over to peck his cheek.

He’s blushing when she pulls away and Lyn begins to wonder if she woke up with some kind of enchantment spell on her lips when Tryst begs, “Hey, don’t I get a morning kiss too?” 

She’s tempted to play it cool, tell him that he’s about to get a _lot_ more than a kiss from her, or maybe give him a preview in lieu of a deep dirty kiss. But… he’s looking at her with a kind of dopey expression and before she knows it, she’s leaning in to give him a very chaste, slow, gentle kiss. He melts into it and it’s the sweetest thing they’ve ever shared. Her fingers linger on his cheek as she pulls away. 

And if Tryst isn’t blushing too. 

There’s a weird tension in the air now that Lyn doesn’t know what to do with. She awkwardly clears her throat and reaches for the strap-on lying on the floor because if anything will return things to normality, a magic space dildo will.

“So,” she asks. “Want to show me how this works?”

Tryst blinks wide-eyed at her and then not at all as Bacta resumes moving his fingers. When Tryst opens his eyes again, he seems back to his normal self. He grins cockily at her. “I already set it up for you, just strap it on.”

Lyn looks at him skeptically, but it actually does fit _perfectly_ , and she begins to wonder at what point Tryst had memorised her hip size and clit-placement. The leather straps are really comfortable and her entire mound is covered in a thin fabric where these rumoured smart-vibrators are hidden away. Protruding from the front is a thick pale pink dildo, standing tall before her, just a little larger than Tryst’s own penis. It looks like there’s an elasticised band on the fabric at the base, as if it can be swapped out for a different model, which Lyn files away for future reference.

When she looks back up, three pairs of eyes are watching her. Tryst audibly swallows. 

“That, uh, looks good,” Bacta says, clearing his throat. 

“ _Really_ good,” Tryst clarifies. “Try, uh, grasping yourself. To try out the pressure sensors, y’know.”

Lyn frowns. It feels weird to hold the dildo like it’s her own anatomy, but she reaches out and experimentally takes it in her own hand.

She gasps, and drops her hand.

“What, the, kriff,” she breathes. She does it again, and this time watches the fabric around her mound tighten and then loosen again. 

“What? What is it?” Leenik asks with interest.

Lyn focuses on breathing because this is _insane_. “The pressure sensors…” she begins explaining, but then grasps herself firmer and moans instead. 

“Nice,” Tryst says appreciatively. 

“It’s like, the more pressure there is here,” she says, touching the dildo, “the more there is… _here_ , against my…” and this time they all seem to get it. 

She grasps herself firmly again just to feel that wonderful tight pressure against her clit. This is _amazing_.

“Try stroking yourself,” Tryst says.

And _no way_. No way does this get better. 

She reaches out again, grasping the dildo, feeling the pressure in tandem against her clit, and then experimentally, moves her hand upwards.

“Holy-” 

“What?” Leenik squeaks. 

“It…” Lyn tries. She breathes in deeply, still feeling the tingle. “Vibrates. Everywhere. Oh my -”

She does it again. The pressure against her clit now with accompanied with a trail of mini vibrations all the way along her mound, like an electrical current, seemingly matching the movement along the dildo. She moans.

“That’s… _good_ ,” she says, in what must be the understatement of the year.

Tryst licks his lips, and then groans as Bacta moves his fingers again. “I think the head is meant to be extra sensitive too.”

Lyn gives him a look of disbelief, but, yeah, when she touches it, her knees actually buckle at the intense touch. It’s a hard, intense, vibration against her clit. 

This is going to be _insane_. 

“Seriously,” she gasps when she can breathe again. “How much did this thing cost?”

“Oh, _now_ you want to talk about it,” Tryst snarks. 

She looks up and sees just how wrecked Tryst looks, having been relentlessly worked open throughout this entire discussion, and feels more than a little smug at having reversed yesterday’s situation on him. She almost wants to keep it going, to have him begging for it, like she was yesterday, but the truth is that she’s equally as desperate to be in him already. 

“Are you ready?” she asks. 

Tryst rolls her eyes, as if he’d make a smart comment about “always being ready” if he had the energy to do so. Bacta withdraws his fingers and starts to retreat with a kiss on Tryst’s cheek before Tryst reaches over and pulls him into a deep kiss. Leenik shuffles over, rubbing himself against Tryst’s side to make room for Bacta in front of him, as Lyn comes to stand at his back. 

She strokes his hips, mindful not to knock into Leenik, and rests her forehead against Tryst’s wet back, mentally preparing herself. Tryst pushes himself back towards her in a hint to move, even as he pulls Bacta into an even filthier kiss in front of him and she sees Tryst’s hand snake down to pull at Bacta’s cock.

Okay. She can do this. She exhales slowly, and then, carefully positions herself at his entrance, using her hands to guide the way. 

The tip of the dildo touches Tryst’s hole and she moans at the sudden vibration to her clit. She bucks her hips just slightly, pushing inside, and Tryst moans beautifully as vibrations skitter across her mound. 

She pauses to catch her breath, noting that all their breathing sounds equally ragged, before pushing further in. She can feel every inch of him and Tryst is losing his mind in front of her, cursing in languages she’s never even heard before. He _loves_ this. 

She bottoms out and they cry out in tandem as the tip of her dildo finds his prostrate. She has to pull back a little just to find her sanity. The pressure and stimulation against her clit is overwhelming. She could come in seconds if she’s not careful. 

_Pleeeeease_ ,” Tryst moans, and they all seem to lose their patience at once. 

She hears Bacta drop to his knees and Tryst cry out in pleasure as presumably he takes him into his mouth, Leenik starts rutting against Tryst with a desperate little sob as Tryst reaches around his neck, cradling him close, kissing him open-mouthed, and Lyn… Lyn can’t wait any longer. 

She moves, feeling every drag against her wet mound as she retreats, and then dives straight back in, as deep as she can go, until she feels that intense vibration against her clit. Her arms come to circle his waist as she plunges into him, over and over, chasing the building pleasure.

Tryst writhes between their ministrations, breaking from his kiss with Leenik to lean his head back on Lyn’s shoulder, breathing fast and uneven. He closes his eyes, completely blissed out. And no wonder why: this must be Tryst’s number one sex fantasy right here; being fucked from three different sides. Her arms tighten around his waist, supporting him, happy to be able to give him such pleasure as she thrusts faster into him. He moans helplessly at the faster pace, one hand still around Leenik, and the other coming round Bacta’s head, urging him on as he seems to take his cock all the way in his mouth. 

His breathing is coming faster and faster, so Lyn drives in deeper, rubbing repeatedly against his prostrate in a way that drives her crazy too. Tryst is too far gone to even give a warning when he comes, his sudden straining and wordless shout the only sign until she hears Bacta’s surprised muffle the other end. 

She eases up, not wanting to overstimulate him, when he reaches back to cover her hands on his hips. “Don’t you dare stop,” he gasps between breaths, and then reaches forward to pull Bacta to his feet. “Want you all to come on me.”

That declaration seems to spur them all on as Leenik pulls Tryst into another kiss and Bacta starts jerking himself off, close enough for his hand to brush against Tryst’s stomach every time Lyn pushes him in a forward movement. She keeps her thrusts shallow but fast, focusing on drag and tip-contact to get her to orgasm as quickly as possible. 

“Come on me, come on me,” Tryst is whispering to his boys, encouraging them with hands as well as words, and it’s incredibly distracting. 

She ends up rutting inside him, putting constant pressure and intense vibration on her clit, and it feels so good, it’s mindless. She barely even registers Leenik coming, and then Bacta, until Tryst’s words of encouragement turn to her. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, coaxing her on. “Fuck me. Come in me. Wanna feel it. Come for us, baby-”

She comes in a wordless shout, so hard, and so sudden, that it overpowers her. She hears Tryst moan and distantly wonders what the kark this insane dildo is doing to him now, but she’s too overcome with pleasure to ask. She shudders and collapses against his back as she comes down. 

She sleepily opens her eyes to see the others have had the same idea, all huddled around Tryst, sharing lazy kisses and caresses. 

Tryst hums in pleasure as they all share the post-coital glow. That really must have been his idea of heaven. And this must be Leenik’s idea, if the way he burrows into the cuddling nest is any indication. Bacta strokes a hand down her arm, wordlessly asking if she’s okay, and she tries to answer the best she can with a smile and shrug. She’s still buried inside Tryst, but she reaches out to sleepily pull Leenik into a hug anyway. He sighs softly against her. 

It’s oddly peaceful, and warmth grows inside her different from desire. She could get used to this. 

“So,” Bacta says, gently knocking his nose against Tryst’s to get his attention, both blushing a little. “We all get a go with the magic space dildo, right?” 

-

They get roped into another ridiculous and dangerous mission that afternoon. The mission goes sideways, as it always seems to do, and two rescues, one matchmaking, and three life-or-death situations later, they all hobble back onto the Mynock with various injuries, mental scarring, and hideous fashion choices that seem to accompany their missions. 

It also lasted _three_ days. Three entire days without sex, which Lyn never considered long before but now feels like an _eternity_.

It wasn’t just the sex though. 

She noticed early on that their activities were only confined to the shower for whatever reason, but when they were out of the Mynock and sharing hotel rooms and hideouts and holding cells, this arbitrary division seemed even weirder. It wasn’t just that they weren’t having sex out of the shower; they weren’t even showing the slightest bit of _affection_ out of the shower. Not even Leenik, who’s normally the most affectionate out of them.

Their bickering is still there, Tryst’s sexual innuendo is still very much there, but there’s not even so much as a lingering touch, even when it’s just the four of them alone. 

She didn’t mind it so much on the mission because she told herself it kept them - and especially Tryst - _focused_ , but when she crawls into bed that evening, exhausted and aching all over, she wishes for nothing more than their company.

She sighs at her loneliness. It’s ridiculous. She still spends _all_ her time with these people and she knows they love her in their own, very weird, ways, but… right now? She wants someone to hold her. She wants someone to kiss her forehead. To stroke her lekku. To fall asleep next to her. 

And she wonders why this seems to be against the rules. 

-

There is no shower time the next morning. She tells herself it means nothing. Tryst is still healing. Bacta is spending time with Tamlin. And Leenik’s only interested half the time anyway. She doesn’t even feel her typical morning desire, weighed down with loneliness. 

She finds Leenik alone in the kitchen, decorating a batch of cookies in his “the cook’s busy, kiss me instead” apron that he loves so much. He must have had trouble sleeping if he’s already on the decorating stage. She wonders if he couldn’t sleep last night either from missing their touch so much.

She sits with him companionably for a while, watching him carefully squeeze the piping bag to form pretty patterns on the cookies, as she drinks her herbal tea. 

“Hey, Leenik?” she asks.

He hums to acknowledge that he’s listening, even though his hands don’t stray from his task. 

She decides to get right to the point. Leenik is the affectionate one. Leenik is the romance reader who knows how these things are meant to go. Academically, at least. “Do you find it weird that we only do stuff in the shower?”

Leenik’s hands pause for a moment, before going back to his task, with purposeful focus. “Not really. It’s when we’re all together. And naked.”

“I don’t mean just sex stuff,” Lyn adds, leaning back to double check that Tamlin isn’t in earshot, but he must still be training with Bacta in the dojo. “I mean… cuddling, kissing, romance stuff. Don’t you miss kissing Tryst outside of that? Sometimes, I mean,” she adds with a cough because she doesn’t want to make her pining _too_ obvious. “It might be nice.”

Leenik’s hands have paused again, and he’s looking at her over the cookies like he sees right through her. Then he sighs, and returns to his task. “If it were up to me, I’d be doing that stuff all the time.” 

“Oh,” Lyn says. “Then… why don’t you?”

Leenik shrugs matter-of-factly. “Tryst doesn’t like cuddling and stuff, you know that. And it would be weird without him there, I think.”

Lyn frowns in thought and eventually nods in agreement. She’d be happy to curl up with Leenik if that’s what they both needed but she knows that it would feel too much like they were missing a piece, even if Bacta were to agree to it too. 

-

She finds Tryst lounging on his oversized bed in his smuggling gear, with one leg propped up on the other at an angle, and a datapad resting between them. He looks bored, kinda listless, as he flips through pages on it. 

She knocks on the open door and he pulls off his little vintage-style headphones and gestures her to come in. “What’s up?” he asks, as he shuffles back to make room at the foot of the bed.

She takes the proffered space, sitting cautiously on the edge of the bed. It’s weird. She doesn’t think she’s ever been in Tryst’s room before. His door is normally shut for one thing. She wriggles on the bed a little, experimentally. 

“What?” he asks, mock-offended. “You think I rigged it with a booby trap or something?” He sniggers. “ _Booby_ trap,” he mutters under his breath, clearly amused. 

She rolls her eyes. “Trystan, there’s not much I wouldn’t put past you.”

Tryst frowns, looking genuinely confused. “I… was that a compliment? I think that was a compliment.” 

She sighs and decides to cut to the chase, “Leenik thinks you don’t do stuff outside the shower because you don’t like like cuddling, which is _obviously_ not true because you _love_ cuddling-”

He splutters in trying to argue back and it’s adorable, really, because she’s seen first-hand how he melts everytime one of them snuggles close to him. 

She holds up her hand to silence his protests. 

Tryst sags with a sigh, defeated. “Fine. Cuddling’s the karking best. You got me. What’s this got to do with anything?” 

“Because if your loud and obvious lie about an aversion to cuddling isn’t the reason why we’re not a thing outside the shower, then I’d like to know why.”

“Wait,” Tryst says, bolting upright. “You think this is _my_ fault? You think I, Captain Tryst Valentine, wouldn’t be fucking my crewmates senseless every hour of every day, if I could? Me. _Tryst Valentine_.”

“I, uh,” Lyn says, eloquently, because now he’s said it outloud, that does seem preposterous. “Then… what?” 

“Bacta, obviously. I figured he wanted us to keep it in our pants around Tamlin, and because Tamlin’s around _all the kriffing time_ -”

As if to prove his point, Tamlin comes running past their open door, yelling down the corridor incoherently, followed moments afterwards by a giant, loping, drooling, space wolf. 

Tryst sighs. “I just figured Bacta wanted to keep things separate, defined, you know. To keep things as “normal” -” he says with airquotes and rolled eyes - “for Tamlin as possible, whatever the kark that means. I even thought getting cuddly with Leenik at dinner might end up in a lecture, so, you know, I’ve been sticking to shower time.” 

He shrugs, as if that wasn’t the sweetest, most considerate thing that he’s ever said in his life. She leans down to peck Tryst on the cheek before going to find Bacta.

-

Bacta is working out. Lyn is distracted for entirely too long, standing in the door of the dojo, watching him pull himself up on the bars, at the muscles rippling across his tattooed arms, at the sweat dripping down his naked torso…

“Lyn,” he greets, dropping down from the bars. “You want something?”

Lyn blinks rapidly, clearing her throat, trying to regain her grip on Galactic Basic. Or any language for that matter. “Yeah, I, uh-”

Bacta begins towelling himself off and her traitorous eyes follow every movement of the fabric over his toned muscles. 

He grins, because she’s obviously been caught watching. 

She feels herself flush and gets down to business, “Tryst thinks we’re not a thing outside the shower because you’re worried about Tamlin.”

“Oh,” Bacta says, flinging the used towel around his neck. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

Lyn breathes a sigh of relief at finally finding an answer, as she was starting to think she was just going round in circles. 

“I wouldn’t want him walking in on us, y’know? He’d be scarred for life. Safer to keep us behind locked doors.”

“I don’t mean just the sex. Because _of course_ that makes sense and I think we’re all with you there. But I mean… generally.”

“Oh,” Bacta says. This actually seems to halt his thoughts. He reaches for the used towel and flings it into the corner with the other laundry. “No, I’m not worried about Tamlin in that sense. In fact,” he says, rubbing his shaved head, “It would probably be _healthier_ for him to see us being affectionate with each other than to see us sniping at each other all the time.”

Lyn frowns. He’s got a point but she wants to make sure. “You’d have no problem with him knowing we’re all in a relationship?” 

“Re...la...tion...ship…?” Bacta says, with wide, unmoving eyes.

She cringes. “I don’t mean-” 

“No, no,” he says, seemingly coming back to himself. “I just… that’s a word, you know? That’s… a word.” He stumbles back and happens to fall upon an exercise ball. He sits there, stunned, bouncing, and it looks ridiculous. 

“...Bacta?”

“Fine,” he says in a hurry. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.” 

She takes the second exercise ball and sits opposite him, hands on her chin, waiting patiently for him to actually be fine. 

“I’d have no problem with that,” he says after a while. “Raising Tamlin in a poly household, that’s fine. Good even.” 

“Cool,” Lyn says, and decides to show her elation by bouncing on the ridiculous ball, just once. “But if that wasn’t holding you back, what was?” 

“Leenik,” he states as if it’s obvious.

Lyn rolls her eyes. She should have seen this coming. Leenik thought he was protecting Tryst, Tryst thought he was was protecting Bacta, so _of course_ Bacta thinks he’s protecting Leenik. For a solid minute, she raises her eyes to the ceiling, and wonders why in hell she decided to take up with these three idiotic men. 

“Leenik,” she repeats back, when she thinks she can say it without annoyance. “Explain.” 

“I thought it might make him uncomfortable! I don’t know where his boundaries are! I thought he might freak out if we, you know, _expanded our horizons_. I didn’t want to pressure him. He probably expects some big romance, you know? And if you haven’t noticed: we’re a kriffing mess. And then I thought: what if he’s really only interested in Tryst? And I’d just be getting in the way. And… I don’t know. I figured he’s the cuddly one, you know? If he wanted that kind of relationship with me, with us,” he says, indicating to Lyn, “he would’ve already.” 

Lyn puts her head in her hands and groans so kriffing loudly that Tony barks in response from across the ship. 

-

That night, Bacta burns dinner, Tamlin cries because he misses home, Tony barfs in the biodome, Tryst annoys Leenik so much that they nearly have another destructive fist fight in the kitchen, and Lyn has _finally_ had enough. 

She pushes Tryst and Leenik in an airlock and locks the kriffing door until they work out their anger, hoping they’ll choose sex over violence. She sets D-20 on cleaning up the biodome and gives Tony anti-nausea medicine when he falls asleep sprawled across the main corridor. And then she joins Bacta in tucking Tamlin into bed, calming him with stories and cuddles and staying with him until his breaths have evened out into a deep sleep. 

They give each other a nod over the sleeping child before carefully untangling themselves from the bed. Lyn stretches and yawns, the effects of the mission still making her muscles ache, especially after their stressful evening. 

Bacta holds out a hand for her at the door and she sleepily takes it, guiding him towards the airlock where she’d locked Tryst and Leenik earlier.

She opens the door to see Tryst and Leenik looking rather disheveled and sheepish, sleepily nuzzling into each other. 

“Better?” she asks them.

“Better,” they say in unison, padding towards them with joined hands. 

Tryst greets her with a kiss on the cheek, reaching with his other hand to interlink his fingers with Bacta, who’s already cradling a sleepy Leenik. 

“So, we’re doing this?” Leenik asks, his voice muffled by Bacta’s shirt. 

Lyn reaches over to stroke under his nearest antennae and he hums into the touch. 

“Yeah,” she whispers with awe, surrounded by a cloud of affection she hasn’t seen outside the shower before. “We’re doing this.”

“Good,” he mutters. “Because I’m tired.”

“I know, buddy,” Bacta says, rubbing his back. 

Tryst leans over to brush a kiss against Leenik’s forehead. “Let’s get you to bed,” he says, almost without innuendo.

They begin to move Leenik towards Tryst’s bedroom when Lyn feels Bacta pause beside them and say, “You know I don’t sleep, right?”

“Well, tonight, you karking well pretend to,” Tryst snaps. “And cuddle like the rest of us poor suckers.” 

Bacta scowls, but good to his word, he stays. 

She falls asleep with her nose in the crook of Bacta’s neck, and her arm flung over his chest, while he lies on his back and reads. She can feel Tryst steadily breathing from where he’s tucked in behind her, but his arm, she knows, is holding onto to Leenik’s as he holds him from the other side. Tryst is the centre of attention, as per kriffing usual, but it’s nice… normal, even.

Her last thought, just as she drifts off to sleep, is that Tryst must definitely have planned for this; seeing as his bed “just happens” to be the perfect size for a cuddly Rhodian, a sleepless clone, a tired Twi’lek, and their stupid little “optimistic” human.


	11. Bored - Aava/Synox - M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaaaack! And I'm back with porn. Who's surprised? Definitely not me.
> 
> [Prim_the_Amazing](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/pseuds/Prim_the_Amazing) (and omg please go read their blue/zero sex pollen fic [Dangerous Flora](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13141938) if you haven't already) requested this one. 
> 
> Dom!Aava & Sub!Synox - Aava seduces Synox while Zero & Blue are away. Thanks so much for the awesome prompt.
> 
> P.S. ~~Synox calls Aava "Inquisitor" because I (and no one on discord) could remember what rank/title he actually calls her (and I am lazy and never do my own research) so comment if you know better and I'll make the changes.~~ Agent Arek! That's the one. Thanks to everyone here  & at discord for putting up with my lazy ass and doing my research for me. I owe you all cookies. Or whatever the evil equivalent of cookies is.

Aava is bored, which is always a dangerous precedent. And here, stuck in a metal can orbiting a mining planet, waiting for Zero and Blue to return from their mission, is a particularly dangerous precedent. 

It’s been three days. Three days of doing _nothing_. She’s accustomed to such relentless restlessness. Normally if she gets bored, she can find someone to screw, or someone to torture, or sometimes, if she’s lucky, the beautiful combination of the two. But out here? There is nothing (and no one) to do.

Except for Synox, of course. The ever-professional, ever-militant, _bore_. 

But by day three, even Synox begins to seem like a legitimate option for her to outsource her restlessness. She likes him well enough, even if he is a stickler for the rules, and he’s never outwardly suggested he’s _not_ interested. 

She lies listlessly on her bunk and listens to his rhythmic grunting echoing down the hall from where he is working up a sweat in the dojo. The idea gathers more and more appeal as she considers the possibility. Synox is _such_ a good boy, the Empire’s posterboy even, and she _so_ loves toying with playing with such nice things. She begins to wonder what it would take to break that perfect resolve of his... and she finds herself clenching wantonly. 

She bites her lip. 

Oh, this is a very good possibility indeed. She can see it now: him on his knees in front of her, one fixed on her lips, and the other mechanically cataloguing every inch of her exposed skin. His hands would worship her too, she knows. She recalls his firm, confident, grip. Imagines those large hands prying her thighs apart, how nervous he’d be about his precious rule-breaking until she ordered him to delve his tongue deep inside her… 

And, oh, how he would. He’s so very good at taking orders. He’d be so eager, if only she’d give him the opportunity…

His grunts continue to echo.

She whimpers, her hand midway to her panties.

But now she’s imagined Synox on his knees, she yearns to see the reality of it. Even if declines her offer, the joy of teasing him would be much more captivating than a crude wank to the thought of the act itself. 

Resolved, she leaves the luxurious sheets of her bunk behind to stride through the empty halls of the Bluebird, towards the glorious sounds coming from the dojo.

The sight is even more mouthwatering than she imagined, as she observes him in the doorway. Synox must have been at it for hours; a thin sheen of sweat covers his fit and muscular body. He wears nothing but a tank top and loose pants as he lifts himself up and down from the elevated bar. The deep grunts and the bulging muscles do little to quench her growing desire. 

She imagines what tricks she’d have to use to get him to abandon his regimented morals and composure and plough her straight into a wall with mindless need. How strong his grip would be. How the sweat would taste on her tongue. How he’d look to her for approval even as he relentlessly pushed in further, and deeper, and _harder_ , until she was screaming his name…

“Can I help you, Agent Arek?”

Aava does not _jump_ , but it's something close as she comes to the realisation that she had been so lost in her sexual fantasies that the soldier had managed to spring down from the bars without her noticing.

From his nervous disposition, he must have noticed her staring, and she wonders if the flush on his cheeks isn't solely from his workout. 

She smirks, her confidence returning. “Always so formal, Synox,” she teases.

He flusters and hides it poorly by wiping down his brow with the back of his hand. He clears his throat nervously, and his adam’s apple bobs with the movement. “You are my superior officer, Agent Arek, it is only right that I address you with the respect that commands-”

“Oh, is _that_ why?” 

He coughs nervously again as he looks to busy himself. It's really quite endearing. “I don't know what you could possibly be inferring, Agent Arek.”

“Oh, I'm _sure_ that you don't,” she drawls. He's so easy to fluster, it really is remarkable that she hadn't thought to approach him before. This is already fun and they’re not even naked. 

She saunters towards him, keeping eye contact the whole way, and when she finally reaches him, she makes sure to slowly drag the tip of a single finger down his sculpted chest. He swallows nervously. This is almost _too_ easy.

“Are you sure you don’t _like_ it?” she whispers in a low and sultry voice. 

“L….like it?” he stutters as her hair tickles his shoulder. “Like what, Agent Arek?” 

“Calling me _Agent_ , soldier.” 

She’s close enough that she can feel his breath hitch when she says ‘soldier’ and it confirms her suspicions. She can feel the arousal rolling off him now she’s honed into his presence. And, oh Anakin Skywalker, does it feel good.

His tongue darts out to lick his lips. He’s still standing to attention but she’s never once seen his posture so shaken. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that his knees were _weak_. 

Delicious.

“Do you like other things too, I wonder?” she asks, keeping her voice deep as she trails an insinuating finger further down his chest. 

His breathing quickens and he seems a little tongue tied as he struggles for breath, so she decides to give him a helping hand. 

“Do you like taking orders, Sy?” she teases. “Do you like taking _my_ orders?”

Synox takes a stuttering inhale, like he’s shaking apart, and he seems to force out the words: “It would be improper, Ma’am, I mean, Aava, I mean, Agent-”

“Shhh, shh,” she whispers, moving her hand in a pretence of comfort but that only intends to hitch his breath further. “I know, soldier. You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” 

She can feel his very body vibrate against her palm at the words. Oh, he _likes_ that.

“But, you see, I was rather hoping you’d be such a good boy for me too, and indulge in a little… _unprofessional behaviour_.”

There’s no mistaking her intent with those words, and so she pauses, giving him plenty time to back out if she’s misread the situation, but then she sees his eyelids flutter, finally giving up the professional nine yard stare he had over her shoulder, and she smirks a little in victory. 

“I, uh,” he starts elegantly, clearing his throat again, as he averts his eyes, “I suppose if I had the, uh, _permission,_ of a superior officer to, uh, then, uh,-”

“You have my permission, Synox,” she says, impatient. She leans in to nip at the lobe of his ear. “Touch me,” she whispers; an invitation, low and urgent. 

“Yes,” he whispers breathlessly. “Yes, please, Agent Arek.” 

She growls, and impatient with his fumbling, grasps his head and pulls him into a fierce kiss. He flails at the sudden movement, but all respect to him, as soon as he gets with the programme, he gets _with_ it. He’s grasping for her own face, kissing back messily and brutally, and pressing his hot body straight against hers.

She gasps at the feel of his hardness against her leg and hurriedly unwraps her hands from his head to slide her fingers under the loose hem of his pants instead, pressing him against her. She sighs in relief, because at last, oh my Force, at _last_ , there is pressure against her open desire. He groans into her neck, his own hands, much larger than her own, move rapidly across the plains of her body, as if mapping her. Force, he’s even more eager than she imagined. He could easily take the reins of the situation if he wanted, his passion matched with his sheer force of strength, but he’s clumsy and unsure in his desires, he needs _direction_. He needs _orders_. 

His hands are slipping under the front of her silk nightdress to cup her breasts; his hands so large they cup the entire breast as he does so, and it fills her with want. The wave of desire gives her the sudden clarity she needs to take back control.

“Carry me to the wall, soldier,” she orders, laced with a lustful gasp. “If you’re a good boy, you get to fuck me against it.” 

He groans and instinctively rocks against her mound. “Yes, Agent. Thank you, Agent,” he sighs, before he executes her orders perfectly and pushes her against the nearest wall. 

“Good boy,” she praises, running her fingers through his closely cropped hair. 

“What are my orders, Agent Arek?” he asks, or rather, _begs_ , as he looks up to her with open admiration. 

Her breath stutters, drunk on the sight of this powerful man at her mercy, hanging on her every word. “You’re to make me come without touching yourself,” she orders. “Do that, and you can have your promised reward.” 

“Yes, Agent. Thank you, Agent,” he breathes, as he begins worshipping her with his tongue. 

_Force_ , Aava thinks, as her head bangs back against the dojo wall, _How_ did _it take them so long to do this?_

She has no idea how many days pass before Minister Blue and Agent Zero return from their mission but needless to say that Aava doesn’t spend them _bored_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also!! It's Femslash Feb so if there's any Campaign f/f you wanna see, leave a comment with your prompt, and I'll try to get around to it. Our girls need more love!


	12. Sleepy Cuddles - Blue/Zero - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one requested sleepy cuddles, I just wanted them. Come to think of it, how did I get to prompt TWELVE before I wrote Blue/Zero?!
> 
> It's T rated because although it's cuddles, there's D/s overtones and sexual references because it's impossible to write these two without.

Zero decides to give Blue ten minutes. And then, another ten minutes. And another. But then it gets to a mere five hours before Blue is supposed to be meeting with his editors and his eyes are drooping and his fingers are jittery with caf and he still hasn’t put down the datapad and gone to bed.

There are times when Zero admires Blue’s work ethic, but 3am orbiting above Coruscant is apparently not one of those times.

Zero kicks back in the pilot’s chair and gives it one more try, “Go to bed, Blue.”

He hums, distractedly, still typing away.

“ _Blue_ -”

“Bed, yeah, I heard you. I’m coming. Just… finishing, these, notes,” he says, innuancing each word with another flick of fingers.

Zero sighs, exasperated. “You said that _three_ hours ago, Blue. Come on,” he says, standing and pulling at Blue’s sleeve to beckon him to action.

Blue is so weak from work and exhaustion that he actually moves with the slight tug, his entire body tipping towards Zero at such an angle that his shoulder actually falls against Zero’s thigh. His fingers have not stopped typing the entire time.

“Okay, that’s it,” Zero says defiantly, leaning over to pluck the device out of Blue’s hands. A bold move considering the last time he touched Blue’s work he was in the doghouse for a _week_. “You’re going to bed.”

Blue whines and makes a weak play for the datapad but now the work is not directly challenging him, he seems to have lost some of his fight.

“You can finish it in the morning on the shuttle ride down,” Zero assures him, with a squeeze of his leather-clad hand against his shoulder.

Blue preens and nuzzles into the touch like a sleepy kitten. Zero wishes it was his flesh arm that held Blue so he could better enjoy the touch, but there’s also something deep within him that’s happy Blue doesn’t seem to mind the difference. “You promise?” Blue asks sleepily.

Zero kneels down so Blue can see the serious face emoji on his screen. “I promise. Now, come to bed.”

Blue smirks and Zero knows he’s karked before he’s even said anything. “Only if you carry me.”

Zero sighs in annoyance, though he’s more or less already accepted his fate. “Do you remember that discussion we had about professional boundaries?”

“I don’t know,” he drawls, “Was that before or after you begged me to-”

“Okay!” Zero interrupts before Blue can tease him with the memory of a sexual act they are far too exhausted to repeat. “I’ll carry you, you arrogant ass.”

Blue preens. “That’s my boy,” he praises, and pats his helmet patronisingly as Zero bends to lift him into his arms. He shouldn’t like the praise nearly as much as he does. He also, despite his complaints, loves to hold Blue so close, and cradle him against his chest, safe from harm. He melts a little at the warmth and pleasure of contact even as Blue begs for his datapad and squirms in his arms trying to reach for it.

“Do you want me to carry you or not?” Zero growls, and Blue stills immediately, just as he’d anticipated.

“No,” Blue whines, his arms returning hastily around his neck. “I want you to-”

“Then the datapad can wait.”

“But-”

Zero sighs, and starts moving them out of the cockpit before Blue can protest further. Blue seems to get sleepier with every step, until he’s sighing, and nuzzling into his shoulder, and leaving sweet little kisses on the strip of exposed skin between Zero’s helmet and high-necked armour. The kisses feel so divine against his soft skin that it melts away any residual annoyance with his charge, but it also serves as a teasing distraction, and it’s a trial to keep moving, steady and purposeful, through the ship.

“Zero?” Blue asks, though it’s more of a sigh, and Zero can feel his breath tickle that small patch of skin which is already saturated with affection.

Zero squeezes his arms a little tighter around Blue’s lithe frame in response. “Yeah, buddy?” he asks softly.

“I’m not mad at you.”

Zero smiles behind his visor, and it’s so sappy, he’s thankful no one can see it. It’s a fight though to keep the heart eyes emoji from displaying. “I know, Blue.”

“It’s just really important to me, you know?” he mutters sleepily. “ _Synox and Friends_?” he clarifies on a yawn. “It’s really important to me.”

“I know,” Zero says, as he reaches underneath Blue for the pad to open the bedroom door. “It’s okay.”

Blue’s fingers creep under the back of Zero’s helmet, stroking the little hairs at the back of Zero’s neck. He half-sighs, half-moans, at how good it feels, and barely hears the whoosh of the opening doors, or Blue’s whispered confession, through the whitenoise of pleasure, until the words replay through his head -

_But so are you._

Zero opens his eyes (not even realising he had closed them at the gentle touch) when he realises what Blue is attempting to say in his usual roundabout kind of way. _You’re_ important _to me_.

This time there is no stopping the heart eyes that display on his screen. His heart pounds as he hurriedly tries to squirrel away the display of affection but it’s too late as Blue’s palm comes to cup his helmet. They’re still stood in the doorway, in a mockery of a newly married couple crossing the threshold, and Zero feels nauseous with feelings. Blue fidgets in his arms and leans up just enough to press an earnest kiss against his visor. Zero’s arms tighten. He lets the heart eyes flicker back, just for a moment; the pixels pressed against Blue’s still lips.

It’s a lovely, touching, moment, so of course Blue has to ruin it like the petulant child he is. “Now, take that ridiculous thing off,” he orders, “And spoon me.”

Zero huffs out a laugh and if it were any other day, he might refuse, or at least put up a fight, but what can he say? He’s feeling mushy. “Will you sleep if I stay?”

“Yes, yes,” Blue says dismissively. “Now take me to bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Zero says, the words laced with fond laughter instead of controlled frustration. It’s a nice change.

Blue’s incredibly malleable when he’s tired so it’s easy to get him undressed and into bed, but he’s also extremely tactile, so it takes much longer than it should just because his hands keep getting in the way. Eventually he succeeds and Blue is tucked into bed, reaching for him with wordless mewling.

Zero takes a deep breath for confidence and reaches up to take off his helmet. It took him a long time to let Blue see his naked skin, and although it’s getting a little easier each day (each time Blue preens over his scarred and disfigured skin like it’s a beautiful miracle) he can still only do so in the dark privacy of their quarters, and never without steeling himself for rejection first.

Blue never falters though, and as soon as Zero puts his helmet down on the bedside table, Blue is pulling him in for a gentle kiss against what remains of his lips.

Zero’s sigh of relief stutters against the open mouthed kiss but Blue, forever impatient, doesn’t let him think on it for a second, peppering little kisses all over his mottled face as if it’s something precious. The skin is so sensitive having been untouched for so long and Blue knows this, always eager to use it to his advantage, whether to rile him up, or calm him down.

It does the trick and Zero relaxes against him, rearranging himself under the covers until he’s spooning Blue as he so delicately requested.

Blue sighs in contentment and wriggles until he’s pressed as firmly as possible against Zero.

“Comfy?” Zero asks after a good five minutes of Blue hurumping and wriggling to get as close and comfortable as possible.

Blue sighs as if his discomfort is a great trial of the Empire. “For now,” he mutters discontentedly.

Zero huffs a laugh as he gently knocks his head against the back of Blue’s. He should hate this - he should hate the cuddling, and the insolence, and the fact that he lets a manchild order him around both on and off duty - but he loves it. He loves _Blue_.

“Go to sleep, you insufferable git,” he whispers sweetly. “Go to sleep.”


	13. Mostly Professional - Blue/Zero - T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on that one line in Evil Campaign Ep 5 because how could I not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... turns out February was a TERRIBLE month for me. Sorry!
> 
> Your femslash feb prompts are gonna be a little delayed (amongst the others) buuuuuut I managed to squeeze out another cute little Blue/Zero ficlet, so please have that in the meantime! 
> 
> (oh and I wrote some F/F for B99 if that's anyone's deal? check my profile if so!)

"Mostly professional,” Zero calls their relationship, even as Blue’s heartbeat echoes in his ears. 

_Friend. Employer. Confidant. Drinking buddy._

He hates how flustered Aava’s questioning makes him, as if she can so easily sense the complications beneath. 

Nothing he says is even a lie. They have a good working relationship… technically speaking. Some days, they might actually do the Empire proud.

But, like, sure, maybe their _personal_ record isn’t quite so neat and tidy. Maybe when it’s not “mostly professional” it’s “occasionally a kriffing disaster” but how Aava managed to gleam that after, like, five whole seconds with him, is clearly some kinda Force magic. 

There’s no way she could know, he reassures himself, as Blue’s lifesigns keep their steady rhythm. There’s no way she knows about the lingering touches, the heated gazes, the way their arguments sometimes turn into rough handjobs and Blue keening against the wall, pawing at Zero’s helmet as if he wants so badly to touch the mangled flesh beneath…

There’s no way she knows.

-

Between the explosions, and the cool stunts, and trippy Force magic, Blue’s heart monitor still plays it's reassuring rhythm. It becomes a constant presence in his thoughts, an antidote to the lifeless image he took with him; every time he feels the memory surfacing of Blue lying unnaturally pale and unnaturally still in a hospital bed, he listens to the sound of his heartbeat until the panic subsides. 

The enquiries he sends to the hospital staff get increasingly threatening until they begin sending updates straight to his visor.

_Replaced bacta. Lifesigns good._

_Replaced drip. Lifesigns good._

_Replaced towels. Lifesigns good._

It’s his job to be worried, Zero reassures himself. He was tasked with protecting a man who’s currently in critical care. Of course he’s concerned. _Professionally_ concerned. 

It doesn’t mean he gives Aava the updates though.

-

After what has to be the longest day in history, Zero finds himself crawling back to the hospital, and very nearly falling straight to sleep as soon as his butt hits the chair by the bedside. He’s _exhausted_. And after so many hours listening to only a heartbeat, it’s unbelievably reassuring to see Blue’s chest rising and falling in front of him, visibly alive. Zero sags with relief. His eyes droop against his will. 

“Buddy,” he mumbles sleepily, taking Blue’s hand between his leather gloves, “You will not _believe_ the day I had.”

-

“Pathetic.” 

Zero jolts awake, startling from the chair, and aiming his repulsor fist at the intruder. 

_Aava_.

“Holy… Anakin Skywalker, Aava. I nearly shot you.”

Aava shrugs one shoulder and sips her cup of caf indifferently, as if a blast from his repulsor fist would have been a mild inconvenience at best. 

“What are you doing here?”

“To see you being pathetic, of course.”

Zero huffs, partly out of annoyance, partly out of fondness. 

“And to bring you caf,” she amends, holding out another cup, “Figured you’d need it.”

Zero huffs a laugh. “Ha, yeah, you could say that,” he says as he takes the cup. “Thanks. You’re a good bro.”

Aava makes a sound of disgust at being called “bro” but there’s a little warmth to her eyes that implies she’s not _totally_ offended as comes to stand at Blue’s bedside with him. 

“He’ll be fine, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Zero says, but it sounds awfully wistful as he looks back to Blue’s prone body. Is he thinner than usual? He looks thinner than usual. Zero shakes his head. “But, it’s… you know, my _job_ to look after the guy. I gotta make sure he’s okay.”

Aava raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Your _job_ ,” she drawls. “Sure.”

She’s looking at Zero again in that all-seeing, all-knowing, way that wigs him out. Zero shifts uncomfortably on the spot. “It’s just… a thing, okay?”

Aava raises her hands in defense. “Sweetie, you don’t need to explain yourself to me, I just wanted you to know that you’re being laughably transparent.”

“I know!” Zero exclaims, throwing his hands in the air, and then, calmer, “I _know_. But, like,” he huffs, trying to think how to describe it to someone else, “I know we got issues, but I… quite like those issues. It would really suck if he karked out on us and I didn’t get to have... those _issues_... again.”

“You like him,” Aava infers.

Zero whines like a child caught in a lie, “Yeah,” he admits petulantly, “I like him.”

Aava takes a sip of caf thoughtfully. “Hmm… good luck with that then.”

She leaves with a wink and a smirk and the words _I like him_ seem to circle the room; taunting.

-

“You like me?”

Those whispered words did not come from his head, Zero realises. With a intoxicating mix of exhilaration and fear, he turns around to see Blue weakly smiling just as the hospital door closes with Aava’s departure. 

“I… you…” Zero stutters, attempting to find a single working brain cell that can make words as he stumbles back towards the bed. It honestly feels as if he has short circuited. He runs a quick diagnostic to make sure all his cybernetic components are functioning even as he grasps Blue’s hand and does a quick visual check over his friend’s body as well. 

“Eloquent, as per usual,” Blue croaks, as he attempts to sit up.

Zero is still battling for words even as he helps Blue sit up. “Water,” Zero gasps with realisation, “You should have-”

But Blue has already grabbed the caf out of his hands and takes a sip with a relieved sigh. Zero’s diagnostic report comes back complete but it doesn’t feel that way as he watches Blue purr contently over the steaming cup of caf. His heart is beating so loud he can feel it in the remains of his ears. _I like him, I like him, I like him_...

“Urgh,” Blue complains. “I feel like I’ve been through the garbage compactor.” 

A droid comes squeaking through the doorway, beeping incessantly as it checks over Blue’s vitals. Zero is still numbly watching Blue in awe when sparks literally begin to fly and Zero startles out of his stupor to see the remains of his caf dripping from the now-defunct droid. 

“What?” Blue says indignantly when Zero looks back to him. “It was giving me a headache. That model’s terrible anyway, I-”

Blue’s complaints stop suddenly when Zero leans forwards to grasp Blue’s face in his hands. He’s so beautiful, and so kriffing annoying. He wants to kiss him so badly it’s like a fire in his chest. He flashes up a heart on his visor and repeats, laced with frustration, “I like you.”

Blue frowns. “So you said. I thought we’d been over this already?”

The heart emoji breaks before Zero can even control it.

“What?” Blue says in a confused panic. “What did I-? Oh!” he says, with sudden realisation. He yanks Zero’s helmet down with such a force that Zero flails over the bed, trying to regain his balance. The angry emoji melts away almost immediately when Zero’s pressure sensors feel Blue’s lips against the visor.

 _Oh_.

That’s nice. They haven’t done that before.

“I love you too, you idiot,” Blue says, releasing him. 

“You… do?”

“Obviously.” 

Zero hesitates, his fingers absently stroking Blue’s soft hair, as he re-analyses their last sexual encounter for any indication that it was anything more than that.

Blue frowns. “Wait, was I not obvious? I thought I was being obvious.”

“How?!” Zero exclaims with frustration. 

Blue frowns and it’s kinda cute and kinda heartbreaking. His fingers shake nervously as they purposefully come up to stroke Zero’s helmet. Zero closes his eyes as he’s suddenly transported to all the other times in which Blue has pawed at his helmet in the throes of passion, or stroked his side lovingly afterwards, or attempted to return his affections only to be rejected by Zero’s stern hands at every turn. 

“Oh,” Zero says, eloquently. He never meant for his shyness to be interrupted as disinterest. 

“Yeah.”

“I don’t like being touched. I’ve got… hangups.”

“You don’t say,” Blue drawls. 

“But every time you… that was you trying to tell me you liked me…?”

Blue shrugs. He’s attempting to look unfazed about it but Zero can see the scared little boy beneath. “And I bought you things. I thought that was how it was done. Sex and shiny things.”

Zero damn near throws his arms up in exasperation. “ _Who_ have you been _dating_?!” He exclaims. 

“Not you, apparently.”

Zero forces himself to chill because this could quite easily dissolve into another argument if he let it. He takes some nice, deep, breaths, and calms himself by tracing the light dusting of freckles on Blue’s cheek. “Next time... just use your words, buddy. And don’t go falling off buildings. That was really uncool of you. You missed some, like, super badass heroics while you were out.”

“Oh, really?” Blue says with interest, trailing a very distracting hand up and down Zero’s arm. “Do tell.”

Zero chuckles. He’s tempted to regale Blue with tales of bravery but he’s still revelling in the fact that Blue is alive and awake and he doesn’t have to listen to that damn heart monitor anymore. He sobers as he caresses Blue’s cheek in thought. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he says, more serious than perhaps he ever thought himself capable of being. 

Blue’s eyes soften imperceptibly, as if he understands the meaning of it. “Me too,” he says, with just as much gravitas, putting his hand over Zero’s on his cheek. 

Zero exhales a stuttering sigh of relief as the grip seems to ease from around his heart; breathing fully for the first time since Blue fell. 

He _loves_ this short, annoying, little bug, and there’s nothing ‘professional’ about it at all. 


	14. Eggs - Tryst/OFC - M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm admitting to writing this but happy Easter I guess??
> 
> for the prompt on the kinkmeme: "i've had eggs in me before" ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) i would LOVE to know the story behind this [from that throwaway line in Episode 96]

"You've had  _eggs_  in you  _before_?" Leenik challenges, with no preamble, as soon as they're off-mission.  
  
Tryst sighs dramatically, and throws his datapad of porn aside. "How did I  _know_  this would come back to bite me in the ass?" he grumbles as he rearranges himself into a sitting position on the bed. "It was  _one_  time and it was gross."  
  
Leenik raises an eyebrow.  
  
"Okay, okay,  _two_  times," Tryst admits. "I thought it was worth a repeat. For science, you know."  
  
"How...?" Leenik begins and then flails a little in the doorway, seemingly not knowing how to answer that question. "Just...  _How?!_ "   
  
Tryst sighs and indicates for Leenik to close the kriffing door so he doesn't inadvertently scar a six-year-old child. "You really wanna know?" he asks sceptically as Leenik does as he's told. "You're gonna find it gross."  
  
"I know," Leenik says defensively. "All sex is gross. I just don't understand how  _you_  could ever find sex gross."  
  
" _Eggs_ , Leenik. Hundreds of squelchy jelly frogspawn eggs  _in your butt_. You try having all that up  _there_  and see how you fare."  
  
Leenik pulls a face, and actually squirms in disgust, as if he's physically repulsed by it. Good. Serves him right for asking.   
  
Tryst is hoping he'll leave it at that, but when Leenik's recovered from the visual, his face crinkles in confusion again. "But...  _how_?"  
  
"Oh come on, Leenik, you really don't want to know the specifics."  
  
"Maybe I do!" he defends. "Maybe I want to know. Maybe I'm  _interested_."  
  
Tryst rolls his eyes. Leenik is such a kid sometimes. "There's this... amphibious species on some backwater planet in the Outer Rim. I met a cute girl there. Didn't think anything of it. But, uh, both sexes have, uh, appendages. They reproduce by shooting their, uh,  _stuff_ , into the water at the same time. Like eels or something, you know? All the  _stuff_  gets mixed together in the water, and boom! Babies! Not that I realised this of course... we're fooling around, I see she has a  _thing_ , get super excited, insists she puts it in me... next thing you know, I got eggs in my butt." Tryst shudders at the memory of the squishiness that he carried around for  _days_. "So. Many. Eggs."  
  
Leenik looks like he's about to barf. Or laugh. "You really didn't know she would spurt eggs?"  
  
"Nope," Tryst says. "Hence, round two. I figured if I knew it was coming, I might dig it... but, nope, turns out frogspawn in your butt is disgusting always. Who knew?"  
  
"Who knew?" Leenik repeats back, part sardonically, part genuinely horrified.   
  
"So, yeah, that's it," Tryst shrugs. "End of story."  
  
"Uh-huh," Leenik says, still reeling.   
  
"Hey, wait a minute," Tryst says slowly, a thought forming. "You're amphibious, right? You don't have...? Do you?"   
  
"What? No!" Leenik exclaims, startling from his stupor. "I do not have  _eggs_. Ewww. Gross."  
  
Tryst shrugs holds up his arms in defence. "Alright, alright. Guess I'll go somewhere else for round three then..."  
  
"Round  _three_?!"


	15. Avid Academic - Lyn/Aava - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, it's one of your super delayed Femslash Feb prompts! I must be setting some kinda new record here.
> 
> ANYWAY I got a couple of requests for Lyn/Aava and Joy that gave me the excellent prompt of Aava leaving the Empire and seeking out Lyn. YES PLS. Set post Evil Campaign Episode 9.

There aren’t exactly many people Aava can trust when she leaves the Empire behind her. Sure, Zero was her bud, and Synox was good company, and even Blue hesitated before giving the execution order, but, like they’re the _bad guys_. None of them were exactly going to jump ship with her.

Aava has to escape the Empire _and_ make her way back to Tamlin without getting dead in the process. She’s good, but after her third near miss, she wonders if she’s really _that_ good.

She goes from one backwater cantina to another, trying to find anyone that knows anything about the Mynock’s whereabouts - information which is much harder to gather when you don’t have the Empire’s resources at your beck and call - but her resources, and her odds, are dwindling with each passing day. Even if she could find the Mynock, she has no way of contacting them, or fuelling a ship to get to them. She needs a plan, and soon, before the Empire starts closing in on her.

Aava’s in yet another cantina, exhausted - from running, from fighting, and from loneliness - when she finally hears a familiar name.

 _Lyntel’luroon_.

“You know, the archaeologist.”

And who the kriff knows Lyntel for her _archaeology_?

Aava turns round in a hurry to see some nerds hunched over some papers on a table, and with dread, Aava realises she’s dealing with _academics_.

She takes a second to weigh up the pros and cons:

Pros:

  * Lyn is with Tamlin
  * Lyn is the only one on the Mynock that isn’t a complete disaster
  * Lyn is on the _Mynock._ A ship with caf, and a bed, and a _fresher..._



Cons:

  * Pretending to care about archaeology
  * Making small talk with academics
  * _Academics_



(Effectively all the same point, but one that she really, really, despises.)

Aava makes a sound of disgust, downs her rancid drink with a wince, and puts on her best charming student voice to try and weasel some information out of these nerds.

A painful half an hour later, she convinces the balding one to give her Lyn’s com number, and then makes her excuses and leaves.

Now Aava has a feasible way to get to Tamlin but the question is - how? If it was Tryst’s number she had wrangled, it would be a simple matter of seduction, and Leenik would only have to hear about her lack of romance novels to invite her onboard, but _Lyn_?

Lyn is smart and will be very difficult to manipulate. It’s actually tempting to be honest with her about the situation, but it scares Aava more than she cares to admit. She also has no idea just how forgiving Lyn will be of their previous encounters.

So Aava does what she does best and creates the most enticing trap for Lyntel that she can.

> **AvidAcademic** : Hi… this is kinda awkward… but I got your number from a friend and I’m hoping you can help me out? I’m a professor specialising in archeolinguistics and I have a… rather sensitive document that I think you can help me with... as I understand it, you have in your possession a very similar document? hoping we can compare notes? regards, Avid

Aava waits patiently for a reply. She knows Lyn _will_ reply - her pet project is the Book of Whills and she won’t be able to resist the secrecy - but, boy, does she take her time. Aava suspected Lyn wouldn’t take the bait easily, and the six hours it takes to respond implies that she did the research Aava expected and found “AvidAcademic”’s fake credentials under an even faker name (along with a pleasing photograph of a humanoid female that ought to make the process smoother) and deemed her the genuine article. If Minister Blue were still Aava’s friend, she’d thank him for the valuable lessons she gained in generating false records.  

> **LovingLegacy** : Hi Avid. It indeed sounds like we might be doing research in the same field. Admittedly, my ancient languages are a little rusty. It doesn’t help that the manuscript is incomplete. How is your translation going? Regards, Legacy.

Hope swells in Aava’s chest at Lyntel’s eager response. Perhaps it will be easier than she thought. It almost makes the endless hours of research on archaeology she had to undertake for this rouse worth it.

> **AvidAcademic** : Thank you so much for getting back to me - your time must be very valuable, I appreciate it, and it’s an honour talking to someone as distinguished in the field as yourself.
> 
> **AvidAcademic** : Details are difficult to discuss over unsecure channels, you understand, but it’s going well… it’s the pictorial representations that I’m finding challenging.

Aava drums her fingers on the table of this crummy cantina, hoping Lyn will take the bait. She needs her papers translating. Aava’s fake profile has her down as a pro. All she needs is for Lyn to request collaboration in translation and…

> **LovingLegacy** : You flatter me, thank you! It’s nice to feel valued. My current team are… not so appreciative of my talents. You are very distinguished in your field, also.
> 
> **LovingLegacy** : I admit I could do with a translator. Perhaps a collaboration in the near future? In person, of course, considering that they are sensitive documents. I’m not certain what your situation is though? Are you still based at your university?

Aava smirks with pride. This is _so_ easy. Setting a meeting will be child’s play.

But… Lyntel seems eager to talk about more than just the work. Aava reads over the messages again. “Current team”... could she dig for details about the rest of the Mynock? The more information she has about their current situation, the better. And then it sounds suspiciously like Lyn is prying into “AvidAcademic”’s private life… and that’s certainly something Aava can indulge… Lyn’s more likely to walk into the trap completely blindsided if she thinks it’s a _date_.

> **AvidAcademic** : I am… under the radar, very much like you, but I’m sure we can arrange a meeting. I would love to meet you. And examine the pages, of course!
> 
> **AvidAcademic** : What do you mean your current team isn’t appreciative? Don’t they know the Living Legacy they have working beside them?
> 
> **LovingLegacy** : Clever word play, Avid. You flatter me so. My current team are not academics to say the least. It’s a pleasure to talk to someone that understands. I would love to meet you (and the pages) at your earliest convenience.
> 
> **AvidAcademic** : Legacy, it’s such a pleasure to talk to you, period. I admit I have been rather lonely since I was forced to leave home. The earliest would be the most convenient for me.

Aava finds tears in her eyes and rapidly blinks them away. She did not intend to become so wrapped up in the cover story but it came a little too close to the truth. She’s lonely. And it _is_ nice talking to someone, even if it’s under false pretences.

> **LovingLegacy** : Oh, Avid, I understand. The earliest would be the most convenient for me, also. Unfortunately my team are tied up right now so it will likely be a week or more before I can see you. I was hoping we could keep each other company in the meantime though?
> 
> **LovingLegacy** : I’d like to hear more about you
> 
> **LovingLegacy** : sorry sent early
> 
> **LovingLegacy** : I’d like to hear more about your discovery of the manuscript

Aava has to smother her laugh with the sleeve of her robe. Lyntel is many things, but “smooth” is not one of them. Aava would mock her desperation for companionship if she wasn’t feeling just as vulnerable.

Aava tries to maintain cover over the following week as they arrange a place to meet and talk academics, but between the lies, Aava inadvertently starts telling some truths. It’s unsettling how easily she opens up to her, but it’s been so long since anyone took an interest in her without an agenda. To Lyntel, she is just a girl. There is no Empire, no Tamlin, and no Tryst Valentine between “Avid” and “Legacy”. Aava’s enjoying the freedom, and even as the food on her plate gets scarcer and the bags around her eyes get darker, an excitement builds within her that has less and less to do with the upcoming trap and more and more to do with the upcoming _date_.

It’s all just a fantasy, Aava knows that, but the surge of warm feelings every time she receives a message is very much real, and when she falls asleep hungry but happy, it’s easy to pretend that the fantasy is just a little bit real too.

The day of their meeting comes too quickly. They’ve been messaging constantly all week and no matter how it goes today, there’ll be no more messages, that’s for sure. Aava’s changed the plan, and changed it again, so many times, that she no longer knows if this is the right play at all.

A crowded cantina. A long hood over her face. A symbol of recognition on her arm. A lightsaber hidden beneath her cloak. An insignificant book wrapped in cloth on the table before her.

Lyntel, or her cronies, would be foolish to start a fight in a public place, where civilians could be injured, where attention could be drawn… it’s the safest place to have a conversation.

She had been hoping Lyn would come alone, but it’s not until she senses her presence across the cantina, that Aava knows that she has for sure. The boys have been sent on some other business. Lyn sees this as a date. She will be defenseless.

A battalion of emotions wage war at the idea of that.

Before this week, Aava wouldn’t have hesitated. As soon as Lyn got near, she would have put the lightsaber to her throat, and forced her to take her to her ship. Steal the Mynock, steal the kid, easy as pie.

But now, something within her recoils at the idea. She knows too much about her now. She knows what book she’s reading, knows what she thinks when she looks at the stars, knows how she likes to sleep, knows the food that she misses from home… knows how much she believes in redemption. Aava couldn’t possibly take Lyn’s ship and leave her in the same position that Aava is desperately trying to escape from. She’s not doing that to her, Force be damned.

“Avid?”

Aava steals herself. Lyn hasn’t yet seen beyond her hood; doesn’t know the enemy that sits before her; but she is moving towards the other side of the table, only seconds away from being able to see-

Aava reaches out her hand and grasps Lyn’s wrist. She feels Lyn tense. Hears the sharp withdrawal of a knife.

 _Not completely defenseless after all_.

“Please,” Aava begs - and she senses Lyn’s confusion and the knife’s hesitation - “I just want to talk.”

She hears Lyn sigh. It sounds… exasperated. “I know who you are, Avid. I’ve always known. Your username wasn’t exactly subtle.”

Aava has only been taken by surprise approximately three times in her entire life. This, somehow, was the worst yet. She turns to Lyn, aghast, her hood slipping from her face with the speed of the movement. “What?” she whispers.

Lyn rolls her eyes and twists her wrist out of Aava’s grasp. Aava hadn’t realised she’d still been holding on but she notices the absence immediately as Lyn comes to sit opposite her, a defensive hand still on her pocket knife. “Your faked academic records, for one,” she huffs in amusement. “You had a paper about _geology_ ,” she says with a mocking laugh. “And did I mention the _name_? Come on, did you even _try_?”

Aava is being _teased_ by someone she thought she had in her pocket, but what’s more shocking, is that she doesn’t seem to mind. She opens her mouth to retaliate, but finds that something much more pressing comes to mind. She frowns in confusion. “If you knew who I was, why did you come?”

The bluntness of the question seems to stun Lyn as she searches for an answer. “Because I…” she swallows and looks to the table, and Aava swears she can feel embarrassment rolling off her in a way that makes her think maybe her crush isn’t totally one-sided. “It sounded like you needed help was all,” she says firmly. “I know we’re not exactly friends, and I don’t trust you anywhere near Tamlin, but… the Empire is looking for you. Everywhere. You seemed to have really pissed them off. And I guess that’s something we relate to. So, I guess I was curious to see if you really have turned tail, because if you have… we might just have a place for you. Temporarily, at least.”

This wasn’t what Aava had planned. But, it’s better. Lyn is voluntarily offering to help. Sure, she might not be allowed near Tamlin at first, and she has to share a nice, warm, comfortable ship with three men that she has in turn befriended, slept with, and severely pissed off, but… it’s still a good arrangement.

“What’s the catch?” Aava asks.

Lyn shrugs. “Don’t kill us? Don’t take the kid? Try not to sleep with Tryst Valentine? The usual rules of the Mynock.”

Aava ducks her head with a chuckle. “Just to clarify,” she says, slowly, in a way that gets Lyn blushing, “Is there to be absolutely no fraternization between crewmates? Or is it just that one exception?”

Lyn bites her lip and then shakes her head viciously with a laugh. “Stop it! I’m meant to be mad at you. You’re making it very difficult!”

“I apologise,” Aava says smoothly, reaching out her hand to gently cover Lyn’s, just in case she didn’t get the hint before. “But tell me, why are you angry with me?”

Lyn gestures wildly at Aava, and for one terrible moment, Aava is certain that Lyn is going to list all the atrocious things that Aava has done under the Empire, before she blurts out - “For catfishing me!”

“Catfishing?”

“Yes!” Lyn exclaims with another gesture. “For lying to me all week!”

“But… you knew who I was,” Aava defends. “You were lying too.”

“No, I wasn’t! Everything I told you was true!”

“It was true for me too.”

Lyn gives her an incredulous look.

“Okay…” Aava admits, “Not about my name, or my job, or about the Book of Whills…”

Lyn raises an eyebrow.

“But everything I told you about myself was true, or as true as I could make it. Lyn, I… I really liked talking to you. I’m not just saying that.”

Lyn squirms uncomfortably across from her, and Aava realises that she’s been holding her hand hostage all this time. Reluctantly, she lifts her hand, still tingling from the touch, and holds both of them in a defensive position in front of her. “If you want to keep this strictly professional that’s fine, but I got the impression that-”

“Is your favourite cocktail really Nightly Violet?” Lyn interrupts.

“Yes,” Aava says. “And my favourite ice-cream is raspberry, and my favourite place to be is in a forest, and I really do think Kulik is an overrated scholar who spends far too much time trash talking Turner than actually making his own conclusions, I resented every single word of gibberish that I had to read in order to answer your questions on… Oh,” Aava says with sudden realisation, “Is that why you asked me about those runes? So I’d have to read that dire piece of academic dribble by Kulik and the forty corresponding essays disputing it? Are you _kidding_ me, _Lyntel_?”

Lyn is laughing, and it’s far too beautiful, and far too rare, to resent. “What?” she asks between giggles. “I had to have my fun. Besides, I thought you might be bored!”

“No, Lyntel, I was bored after I read Kulik’s fifth response to Turner’s criticism of Kulik’s rebuttal of Turner’s disapproval of -”

Lyn is laughing so hard she’s wiping tears from her eyes.

“You realise I have a lightsaber pointed directly at your crotch, Lyntel. Be careful who you tease.”

She doesn’t seem at all unsettled by the threat as she tries to get her laughter under control. “I can’t believe you read all that,” she says, sobering slightly. “I don’t know anyone that would go to that much effort for a cover.”

Aava looks away from Lyn’s earnest eyes and shrugs, trying to look disinterested. “It helped frame your work. Kulik and his crowd are immature idiots. But it only makes your brilliance stand out more… a habit of yours, now that I think about it.”

Aava looks back just in time to see a sappy look on Lyn’s face that would put Leenik to shame. “Thank you?” Lyn says, kind of confused, but definitely appreciative too.

Aava meets her gaze and smiles, as soft as she possibly can. She’s not in the habit of displaying her mushy feelings. She doesn’t really know how to go about it. But then Lyn is reaching over and placing her hand over Aava’s, and she thinks that maybe she doesn’t need to know after all.

The boys get themselves in trouble shortly afterwards and they run to the Mynock in the usual chaos that Aava normally witnesses from the other side of the battle. It’s weird to be on the inside of the closing door rather than the outside.

The post-op debrief is intense, and weird, and feels more like an interrogation than anything else, but once the ceremonial sword fight and other nonsense has taken place, she’s finally allowed to go to sleep (in the room furthest from Tamlin). Her first meal, her first shower, and the first time her head hits the pillow are all monumental, but nothing really compares to the sound of her communicator just before she closes her eyes and the message it so clearly displays -

> **LovingLegacy** : Goodnight, Avid. And welcome to the family. <3


	16. Boundaries - Aava/Tryst/Leenik - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, it's another "Tryst Valentine Being More Understanding About Asexuality Than The Entirety Of My Datemates From The Last Five Years Combined" story, because writing fanfiction is cheaper than therapy. 
> 
> Herein be poly negotiations, frank discussions of the Shittiness of Asexuality (look, I'm having a bad week), and tooth-rotting fluff. 
> 
> Inspired by coasterchild's fantastic OT3 doodles, especially [this one](https://twitter.com/coasterchild/status/921850371353358336) of naptime because even though this isn't a modern AU, it does definitely involve naptime. 
> 
> I originally started writing this for a prompt on the kinkmeme which has since been filled because I slept on it for literally six months... My bad. (Kinda glad I did though because [that fill](https://ospnkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/772.html?thread=78852#cmt78852) was A++++) Consider this a bonus fill!

To Tryst, it seemed like only a matter of time before Aava Arek would end up on the Mynock. Sure, Bacta had protested it at first (like, a lot) and Lyn chortled enough that she sounded like a tea kettle for an entire week, but Aava wasn't a straight up bad guy anymore and Tryst knew they were all mushy enough to weaken to her charms eventually.

Bacta was the last to be won over but even he seems cool with it now; no longer stalking her every move or glaring every time Tamlin calls her "Uncle Aava".

It also means, now she's under less scrutiny, that they got to pick up their funtimes again. All it took was once raised eyebrow in an open doorway, and the next thing Tryst knew, they were kriffing on the daily. It was sweeeeeeet.

Until, predictably, Bacta ruins everything.

-

Bacta is staring at Tryst, arms crossed, glaring, utterly unimpressed. Tryst sees this expression at least five times a day so it's no big deal. All he did was wink at Aava from across the kitchen table but apparently it must've pissed Bacta off something fierce, as he immediately dragged Tryst into the nearest escape pod to glare at him.

"Whaaaat?" Tryst exclaims as Bacta continues to glare at him. "I thought you liked Aava now!"

"It's not Aava I'm worried about," he says sternly.

Tryst frowns, and then starts to speak, and then frowns again. "Uh, what?"

Bacta sighs, unfolding his arms. "It's Leenik."

"Whatsthatnow?"

"Leenik," Bacta says slowly.

It's still not any clearer the second time. "Uh...Leenik thinks Aava’s cool too. What's the big-?" but then he breaks off with realisation, "Oh, does he _like_ like her? Is that the-?"

"He like likes _you_ ," Bacta interrupts.

"Uh, no he doesn't."

"Yes, he does."

"No, he-"

Bacta holds up his hand with a deep sigh. "I am _not_ doing this with you. Just... be careful alright?"

"Be careful? With... _Leenik_?" Tryst repeats with disbelief. "I'm sorry, are we seriously talking about the same guy here? He bounced back from _murder_ so I'm pretty sure he can deal with a little crush."

Bacta stops him from leaving with a strong hand on his chest. "He's... sensitive. Especially about this stuff. You know that."

Tryst sighs, and knocks Bacta's hand from his chest. "He's a big boy, Bacta. He'll get over it."

-

But afterwards, Tryst can't help but notice every little twitch that Leenik makes and over-analysing every single movement. By day three, he comes to the inevitable, and disturbing conclusion, that Bacta's _right_.

-

Aava comes to his door that night, looking sultry and eager, and Tryst is too worried about Leenik to even kiss her hello. He just stares blankly at the beautiful woman in front of him wondering why the kriff Bacta had to screw up this perfectly good arrangement. Last week he wouldn't have thought twice about pushing her against the wall and crushing his lips against hers.

Aava sighs, disappointed, and pushes past him into the bedroom. "What is it, Valentine?"

Tryst shrugs. "Who said anything's wrong?"

She sits on his bed with crossed legs and a disinterested expression. "You did. You're _moping_ ," she says dispassionately as she examines her long painted nails.

Tryst sighs and flops back on the bed beside her until he’s looking at the metal grid of the Mynock above him. "Bacta's a giant pain in my ass, that's all."

She hums, expectantly.

Tryst throws his hands in the air because apparently it's useless trying to evade her. " _And_ apparently Leenik Geelo's in love with me."

She's silent, long enough to get Tryst worried. He leans up on his elbows to look across at her.

She's looking back at him like he's an imbecile. "You didn't _know_?"

Tryst groans and immediately falls back onto the bed again, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. "Urgh," he groans. "Why am I always the last one to know everything on this kriffing piece of spacejunk?! I'm the _Captain_!" he exclaims, "I'm meant to know stuff! _Why didn't you tell me?_ " he asks, his voice embarrassingly high and squeaky.

Aava shrugs, leaning back against the bedpost. "Thought you knew."

"Thought I...?" Tryst begins. "Thought I _knew_? Thought I... Thought I _KNEW_?!"

She raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow as he throws his arms up in frustration.

"In retrospect," she drawls, "it was foolish of me to assume that you and Leenik had handled this like adults. I had _assumed_ that you’d talked about it and come to this arrangement. I had _assumed_ that his interest was the reason for the delay in you propositioning me. But, no, apparently you both spent all this time being ignorant and cowardly... which is much more in character now that I think about it. I probably should have assumed _that_ instead."

Tryst groans into his hands, muffling the sound of his frustration. It helps, a little. He slowly lowers his hands and looks to the ceiling despondently. "I think he's really upset, Aava."

She hums. He thinks it's just another dismissal but then she comes to lie beside him and gently strokes her hand down the side of his face. It’s almost sweet.

"What do I do, Aava?" he asks her, tilting his head into her hand and looking at her with wide eyes.

"That depends," she says thoughtfully.

"On?"

"On whether you like him too."

-

Aava is the coolest girlfriend and gives him space to work out things with Leenik. The problem is, Tryst has no idea where to start.

He does however find several wrong things to say that have resulted in Leenik walking out / decking him / locking himself in his room:

"Hey, you don't have sex, do you?"

"Aava's got a real big crush on you, y'know."

"Have you ever had more than one... _panini_?"

"You're looking fiiiiiiiine this morning."

"Why don't we ever talk about our childhoods, Leenik? We should totally do that." (weirdly, it was _that_ one that got him punched in the face)

But eventually Tryst’s attempts must get bad and obvious enough that the others onboard notice.

-

Lyn's the one that separates them from a near fistfight and drags Tryst's sorry ass into the cockpit to shout at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Uh, do you want a list?"

Lyn slaps him across the arm hard enough to hurt.

"Ow!" he whines, clutching his bicep. "These are prime goods, you know."

"You're avoiding the question. You know _exactly_ what I mean. You've been taunting Leenik for weeks now. First flaunting your _thing_ with Aava - and please, don't tell me the details, I don’t want to know - and now _this_? Insulting him, picking fights, whatever else you've been doing. It's not fair to him! You know he's been going through a hard time with this and now you-"

"I know!" Tryst exclaims, catching her flailing hands with his own. "I know," he says calmer. "And believe it or not, this is me trying to fix it."

She snorts in disbelief.

"I'm serious!"

He holds her gaze until she seems to actually believe him. "You're serious," she repeats, bewildered.

"Yeah," he says, dropping her hands. "I'm serious. He's my best friend, Lyn, you think I like hurting him? Look, I didn't realise Leenik would take it so bad but now that he has... I... I just don't know how to fix this, alright? Everything I say seems to be the wrong thing."

Lyn pinches the bridge of her nose like this is giving her a headache. "Okay," she says, breathing out slowly. "I can't believe I'm saying this but maybe _I_ should be the one to go talk to him; make sure he's in a place where he's ready to listen to what you have to say.”

Tryst practically sobs he’s so grateful and pulls her into a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

-

Leenik turns up at his door that evening, looking a little sheepish, and more than a little mad. A Geelo look, through and through.

“Hey,” Tryst says, pushing the trashy magazine aside and stumbling from the bed to meet him at the door.

“Hey,” Leenik says with a sigh. “Lyn says I should listen to whatever you’ve got to say, even though it’s probably stupid.”

“Yeah,” Tryst says sappily, “It probably is.” Tryst smiles as he sees Leenik lean against the doorway and start picking at the peeling paint. His heart warms at the sight even though it makes no kriffing sense that he finds the gesture cute.

“So?” Leenik prompts, dejectedly.

“Iloveyou.”

His head snaps up. “What?”

“What?”

“You just…”

“Yeah, I did,” Tryst says.

“So that’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” Leenik says. “Cool, cool, cool…” He goes back to picking at the paint. “But aren’t you… you know?”

“Oh, with Aava? Yeah. About that… I probably should’ve come to you first but I didn’t know that you-”

“That’s okay-”

“No, I should’ve-”

Leenik sighs and it sounds sad enough to shut Tryst right up. “You were right though,” Leenik says, “What you said, earlier, at breakfast. I don’t have sex. So…” he shrugs, another fleck of paint falls, “you don’t want to be with me. And that’s cool.”

It sounds anything other than ‘cool’ if Leenik’s watery eyes are anything to go by. Tryst darts forward and takes his hand from the wall before he can cause any more damage, cradling it softly between his. “I wanna be with you, Leenik. No doubt about it.”

“Oh?” Leenik says, sounding genuinely surprised. His eyes look up into Tryst’s, full of hope. Slowly, ever so slowly, Tryst brings their joined hands to his lips, brushing a kiss against Leenik’s knuckles. He feels Leenik shudder at the touch.

“Yeah, totally,” he whispers, assuring him. “I can still… I mean, if you’re cool with it, me and Aava can still…”

“Oh!” he says. “Yes! That makes sense. If Aava’s cool with…?”

“Yeah. She’s cool. We spoke about it like real adults and everything. I wasn’t kidding before though, she likes you too, if you...”

“Oh,” Leenik says, blushing a little. “I don’t know.”

“That’s cool. But you and me? We’re game?” he asks, making sure.

Leenik shuffles on the spot a little, looking all shy, but then his thumb rubs softly against their joined hands. “Yeah.”

“Cool,” Tryst says, “Because I really wanna…”

He licks his lips.

Leenik swallows.

Tryst’s heart is beating wildly in his chest.

Shakily, he reaches out to cup Leenik’s cheek, and slowly brings their lips together.

-

Tryst is shaking with adrenaline and he’s pretty sure Leenik is equally as giddy when they go their separate ways for the night. He’s still walking on cloud nine when he enters the kitchen to see Aava at the table with a cup of caf.

“I did it,” Tryst says numbly, falling into the booth before he _falls_ down. “I think I actually asked Leenik to be my boyfriend. I think he actually said yes. I’m pretty sure we made out. And I’m pretty sure I told him I loved him… holy kriffing skywalkers, how...”

Aava snorts. “Please,” she says, “Lyn told me what happened. I’m entirely certain whatever ‘success’ you boast of was at least ninety five percent her doing.”

“Ninety, at most,” Tryst argues weakly, from where is head is sandwiched between his knees in an attempt to breathe like a normal kriffing human being.

Aava laughs again, but lets him have it, and even rubs her hand against his back in a sign of solidarity. “Well you both survived the conversation, which is more that I thought possible, so I suppose _some_ congratulations are in order at least.” She pauses and then asks seriously, “You really told him you loved him?”

“Uh-huh,” Tryst says in a strangled voice, utterly horrified. It had seemed so much easier when Leenik was in front of him being all cute and sad. Now the whole concept seems _terrifying_. A boyfriend _and_ a girlfriend??? He’s Trystan Valentine. Voted The Worst™ at Relationships six years in a row. There’s no way he’s equipped to deal with two serious relationships in a confined space for an indeterminate period of time. _Kriff, kriff, kriff, kriffing ballsacks..._

Aava whistles lowly, as if she’s heard his entire thought process. (And, hey, with her freaky Force magic, maybe she has). “That’s a bold move, Valentine. I’m proud of you.”

A warm feeling rushes through him at Aava’s praise and he remembers: _this_ is why he does this.

-

Somehow, their arrangement actually seems to work out, probably because Aava and Leenik appear to keep to their own schedules. Leenik is basically like a Daytime Boyfriend - they kiss each other on the cheek at breakfast, they’ll go and do something together during the day (usually reckless and dangerous, they way they like it), and then maybe snuggle in the evening. Meanwhile, Aava is like an all night booty call. It’s pretty sweet. Tryst gets cuteness and danger in the day, and sex and… well, more danger, at night.

The only trouble is that it’s a bit awkward when these worlds collide. First thing in the morning, Aava might still be in his bed - very naked - when Leenik wants to come and snuggle. And just before bed in the evening, Leenik might still be braiding Tryst’s hair when Aava wants to initiate sexytimes. In an ideal world, obviously both of these things would be happening simultaneously, but… like, Leenik’s weird about sex, and possibly also weird about Aava, and Tryst has no idea if they likelike each other at all, or if they want to keep their interactions limited to trashy romance novels and murder.

Annoyingly, it’s the Actual Child on the ship that calls them out for it.

Tamlin is playing some kinda game with Tony on the kitchen floor when Leenik walks in and sees Aava already straddling Tryst in a not-so-PG way.

“Uh…” Leenik stutters, frozen in the entranceway to the kitchen.

Tryst’s hands freeze on Aava’s ass, not entirely sure whether he’s meant to finish the make out session out of politeness or something.

“Why are you being so weird, Uncle Leenik?” Tamlin accuses as he looks between the adults with confusion. “You can play with us instead if you want. Tony is SuperWolf and I’m Pepper Tuck, the detective, and we’re going to save the galaxy, one small crime at a time!”

“Uh…” Leenik says again, elegantly.

“That’s okay, Tamlin,” Tryst pitches in. “I think Leenik wanted to play with the grown ups.”

“Eww gross,” Tamlin says with disgust.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean sex stuff,” Tryst hurries to defend. “It’s not sex stuff. Not all adult playtimes are sex stuff. Some growns ups don’t-”

But Leenik has already scuttled away in embarrassment.

“Aw, kriff.”

Tamlin frowns at Leenik disappearing down the hall and Tryst can see tears building in his eyes. “Did I do something wrong, Uncle Tryst?”

“No, buddy,” Tryst says, giving Aava an apologetic smile as he extracts himself from what had been a very pleasant position. “I think it was me that did something wrong. You’re cool, bud.”

He rubs his hand affectionately against Tamlin’s horns as he leaves and mouths an apology to Aava as he follows Leenik down the corridor.

-

“Hey, Nik?” Tryst asks, poking his head round door after door, trying to find his boyfriend on this ridiculous ship.

After finding disapproving looks from the rest of the crew, he eventually finds Leenik in the cockpit, with his feet on the dash, looking out at the passing stars. He’s crying. Aw kriff, he’s _crying_.

Tryst awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he hovers in the doorway deciding what he should even be apologising for.

Leenik is utterly silent as he cries, eyes wide open, silvery tears just running down his face, and it makes Tryst wonder just how many times Leenik has cried before, back when they used to share a room, and how many times he just didn’t notice.

“Hey,” Tryst says softly, bravely stepping into the room, and taking the pilot’s chair beside Leenik.

Leenik doesn’t make a move to acknowledge him. Eventually, Leenik says, “I’m sorry,” all broken in a way that makes Tryst’s heart ache.

“Hey, no, don’t say that,” Tryst whispers. He wants to reach over and take Leenik’s hand so bad but he doesn’t know if Leenik is okay with touching right now. Instead, he twists his own hands together in his lap so he won’t be tempted. “What are you sorry for?”

Leenik shrugs.

Tryst sighs and tilts his head to the ceiling in muted frustration. They both hate talking about their feelings, but if they don’t straighten this out, they stand to lose their friendship as well as Boyfriend Perks and that’s really not on the table. Nowhere near the karking table, actually.

“Look,” Tryst says, turning towards him, “I really like Aava, but I also really, really, like you. I don’t want this to hurt you. Like, at all. I’d rather take a bullet to the dick - no, _ten_ bullets - then see you crying again. Just tell me what I did wrong, and I’ll stop doing it, I promise. Even if it’s…” he takes a deep breath, because he really doesn’t like the idea of what he’s about to say, but before he can get the horrible words out, Leenik is viciously shaking his head.

“No,” Leenik says firmly. “It’s not Aava. I’m happy that you’re… doing things with her. Please don’t end things with her for me, that’s really not want I want. At all.”

Tryst releases a sigh of relief that he didn’t realise he was holding. If he had to end sexytimes with Aava to keep a friendship with both of them then he would’ve done it, but it would have been the very opposite of fun. “Then what is it?” he asks.

Leenik’s face goes through several expressions that Tryst doesn’t really have the emotional intelligence to understand before Leenik finally looks down at his hands and admits the problem. “I guess I just… get sad sometimes. Because I… don’t do those things. I can’t… give that to you.”

“Leenik, I’m not asking you to-”

“I know!” Leenik shouts suddenly in frustration. “I know that,” he says quieter, but no less frustrated. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, okay? I shouldn’t feel bad. And I _don’t_ , really, it’s more like…” he kicks the control panel with a wordless shout and several buttons fly off under his combat boots and a red light starts flashing and the ship falls suddenly out of hyperdrive, but Tryst can’t bring himself to care about any of those things. “It’s _like_ ,” Leenik tries again. “I see you two, doing _normal_ sexy things, and it’s like I realise how _un_ normal I am.”

“Abnormal,” Tryst corrects absently, “pretty sure it’s _ab_ normal,” before he realises this is probably not the time for the two of them to bicker about language again.

“Oh so is it _ab_ usual too?” Leenik shoots back, so, hey, maybe this is the right time after all. “ _Ab_ wind? _Ab_ known? _Ab_ derstanding?”

“That last one didn’t even make any sense-”

“I hate you,” Leenik says without heat.

“I love you,” Tryst parrots back, but it seems to work, as Leenik catches his eye and breaks away with a startled laugh. “Seriously,” Tryst says, sobering up. “I love you. You’re not… broken - or whatever the hell you’re thinking - just because you don’t wanna sleep with me. Actually, that probably puts you in the _majority_ now that I think about it _.._.”

Leenik shoots him a dirty glare that Tryst chooses to read as “unbelieving” just so his ego isn’t entirely blown to pieces.

“For real, Leenik,” Tryst says earnestly, “I’ve never thought that there was something wrong with you. Not once. It’s just… part of who you are,” he says with a shrug. “And I love it, because I love you.”

Leenik is blushing yellow and it’s adorable and it’s only then that Tryst realises how sappy he got in trying to make Leenik feel better.

Tryst clears his throat loudly, “You know, I’m just gonna-” he says, half out the chair, with a thumb to the exit.

Leenik clears his throat too, equally emotional as he stares purposefully out into the stars. “Yep. Cool. Me too. Good talk.”

-

Tryst sleeps alone that night, and it’s weird, because he didn’t realise how quickly he got used to Aava beside him until he’s tossing and turning for three hours wondering why the hell he can’t get to sleep.

Some of Leenik’s insecurity seems to have rubbed off on him - Why does Aava even like him? Does Leenik need some kind of commitment? Does Aava really like Leenik, and if so, what does that mean for them? What kind of future do they have?

It’s _nauseating_.

Tryst wanders the corridors in his nighttime kimono, hoping that the exercise will alleviate some of the tension that’s built up inside him after a sleepless night. He’s somewhere near the engine room when he hears a woman’s laugh.

_Aava._

It’s a laugh that Tryst still isn’t used to hearing - high pitched and almost _giggly_. Completely carefree.

There’s a soft smile on his face even before he rounds the corner to her bedroom and sees what made her laugh - Leenik in one of her sleek, long dresses - stumbling a little, as if he’s just tripped over his feet.

Tryst clamps down on his own laugh that threatens to escape. Leenik looks adorable. The dress is completely the wrong fit for his species, first of all, and at least three inches too long, but he’s all made up in one of his old wigs and some classic make-up, and the final look is beautiful, but also an utter disaster.

Aava is still laughing with glee as Leenik attempts to twirl. “I think we need to get you your own dresses, darling.”

“You think?”

Aava stands up from her bed and walks over to him, and the way she places her hands on his hips to turn him from side to side, is so casual, that Tryst suspects this isn’t the first time she’s touched him like this. “Definitely,” she says. “I’m sure we can find you something much more flattering.”

Tryst clears his throat. “I’d like to see that,” he says.

They both jump a little at the sound and Aava’s hands drop from Leenik’s hips. Tryst looks down at the ground, suddenly feeling guilty for intruding on what was probably meant to be a private moment.

“Sorry - I, uh, didn’t know you two were seeing each other.”

“We’re not!” Leenik defends, a little too quickly. “I mean, we’re not _not_ seeing each other but we’re also _not_ seeing each other… right? Aava?”

Aava seems to take pity on Leenik and places her hand softly on his shoulder to cease his rambling before turning back to Tryst. “We’ve been spending some time together.”

“Cool,” Tryst says, trying to process the conflicting emotions within him. Joy? Jealousy? Anxiety? Pride? All of the above? “Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.”

“Are you… okay?” Leenik asks, with just a hint of teasing.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you just said ‘cool cool cool-’”

“Yeah I know,” Tryst whines. “It’s just…” he walks past them to sit on the bed and rubs his hand tiredly over his eyes. “Really late.”

“Tryst,” Aava says, all serious and boring, “We’ve been spending time together because it’s important to you that we get along.”

“Oh,” Tryst says, shuffling uncomfortably on the bed. “Really? That’s why?”

“Yeah, dummy,” Leenik says. “It was weird and we didn’t want it to be weird. We wanted to get to know each other. And I liked Aava, but I didn’t know if I _liked_ like her-”

“Do you know now?” Tryst pipes up eagerly, because he’s really kinda interested.

Leenik looks sidelong at Aava like Tryst just dropped him in it and if Tryst was any more awake, he’d probably feel a little guilty about it. Aava looks at Leenik, patient and steady, like she’s very curious to know the answer too.

“I don’t know…” Leenik murmurs to the ground, embarrassed. “I like you, Aava, I just don’t think that I…” he looks across to Aava again, kinda nervously, like he’s hoping she’ll connect the dots from that.

Aava smiles, but to Tryst it looks a little sad. “That’s okay, Leenik. I understand. I’m happy to be your friend.”

Leenik gives her a watery smile in return. It’s all super intense and Tryst is far too zonked out for this.

“Alright,” Tryst says with a yawn, snuggling into Aava’s sheets. “You guys hug it out or whatever, I’m just gonna…”

And he falls asleep before he even hears their response.

-

Aava and Leenik are still talking feelings, cross-legged at the foot of the bed, when Tryst wakes up some hours later.

“Whaaa?” he blearily mumbles as he wipes the sleep from his eyes. “Did you guys sleep at _all_? We have...” he waves his hand in the air as he tries to catch the word. “Mission,” he finds at last. “We have mission stuff today.”

Aava shrugs. “We’ll manage.”

-

They do _not_ manage. It’s non-stop danger for five hours and by the time they return to the Mynock, Leenik is practically sleepwalking up the ramp.

The three of them collapse in the kitchen booth, as the ship goes to warp, too tired to even change out of their torn and bloody disguises, and definitely too tired to care about boundaries.

Tryst leans back on the comfy bench, face tilted to the ceiling in bliss as he feels his lovers get comfortable to either side of him. Leenik immediately goes to use Tryst’s thigh as a pillow, lying down and tucking his legs up on the booth. Aava is far too dignified to do such a thing, but she rests her head in the crook of Tryst’s neck and that’s just as good.

“We should do this more often,” Tryst mumbles sleepily as he rubs circles on Leenik’s back.

Leenik purrs in response.

“What?” Aava mutters. “Infiltrate underground raves? Because I could do without that. Neon is _really_ not my color.”

Tryst chuckles tiredly, with his eyes still closed. “No,” he says, stroking a thumb across Aava’s exposed shoulder, “ _this_. The three of us.”

“Oh,” Aava says, kinda stunned. “ _That_.”

Tryst cracks an eye open to see her reaction but when he sees a small smile on her face, he closes them again with a relieved smile.

“I'd like that,” she concludes.

“Me too,” comes Leenik’s muffled reply from Tryst’s lap.

“Good,” Tryst says in what has to be the understatement of the year. “That’s very good.”


	17. Friends With Benefits - Aava/Zero - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it took me this long to post this when it's been sat 97% completed in my drafts for three months. I'm lazy, what can I say.
> 
> So, there's two prompts that are responsible for producing this one -
> 
> 1) from the kinkmeme: "Aava/Zero, nobody else takes the time to ask how she is. I just want Zero taking care of Aava because I feel like she deserves that. Up to you how that goes, whether it's just like a massage and running her a nice bath or something more 18+, I'm chill."  
> 2) and from iamalivenow: avaa and zero being very good friends (with benefits)
> 
> <3 <3 <3

Synox suspected from the very beginning that he’d regret teaming up Agent Arek and Agent Zero to get things under control on Mandalore. They’re both very fine, very capable, agents of the Empire, but there was something about putting them together that screamed “unprofessional behaviour” from the get go.

Synox hates being proved right.

They return from their mission thick as thieves. Aava allows herself to be mocked. Zero allows himself to be touched. The debrief is even more infantil than when the young Minister Blue is present - the proceedings littered with constant teasing, and play fighting, and inside jokes. But, as far as Synox can tell, still blissfully non-sexual.

He breathes a sigh of relief and dismisses them, noting as he does so that Aava has a slight spring in her step. He frowns in concentration. She does seem happier after her interactions with Zero. Perhaps he should update Inquisitor Louphan that Aava is no longer a flight risk.

-

Curiously, Aava’s jovality seems to persist long after her mission on Mandalore, even though Zero is stationed elsewhere. Synox submits a request for information to Louphan. He doesn’t expect to hear anything back, but perhaps Louphan herself is curious as to her apprentice’s behaviour, because he receives a response in double time.

_They appear to be friends_ , Louphan replies, and Synox swears he can hear her distaste for the fact through the short digital text.

He opens the attached file and browses the fragments of messages between them -

> 0: how’s your day been so far, babe?  
>  A: awww thanks for asking, hot stuff. it’s good so far. I used my lightsaber to scare some children.  
>  0: oh no fair! I wanna do that!! :-((( did they cry??  
>  A: one of them wet his pants, I’m not even kidding

0: hey, do you ever get the feeling that your boss is a COLOSSAL PAIN IN YOUR ASS AND IF IT WEREN’T YOUR JOB NOT TO GET HIM DEAD, HE’D BE DEAD  
A: blue giving you trouble?  
0: blue’s ALWAYS giving me trouble  
0: …  
0: dude  
0: he just bought me ice cream  
0: we’re cool

> A: ugh I’m covered in so much blood rn  
>  0: saaaaame  
>  0: we need a spa day  
>  A: YES  
>  A: the next time we’re both assigned together, can we do that? Please?  
>  0: !!!  
>  0: yes! Of course!  
>  0: SPA DAY BUDDIES! :D :D :D

Synox frowns. What sort of bizarre friendship was this? Spa days and murder? He reads through every single message Louphan sent him with a fine toothed comb looking for anything worrisome but at no point do they give away mission details or verge into anything strictly unprofessional.

_Friends_ , he thinks. Technically there’s no law under the Empire that forbids friendship.

-

It’s not long before they’re banded together for another mission aboard the Bluebird and Synox makes sure to monitor Zero and Aava’s reunion closely while pretending to be engrossed in a user manual. They both break into grins when they see each other across the tarmac and run towards each other with open arms. Synox sits straighter in his seat, preparing himself for something that will no doubt result in paperwork and messy employment tribunals. But… they don’t kiss. Zero sweeps Aava up into his arms, spinning her in an exaggerated movement, and this is when Synox realises that they’re _mocking_ the whole idea of a romantic reunion, not partaking in it. They finish the routine with a casual fist bump.

What a bizarre friendship, indeed.

Later they eat dinner together, and despite Synox’s scrutiny, it’s not unlike every other meal time that they’ve spent together - Blue typing away, Zero trying to swipe the device from him, Aava threatening to end their bickering with violence, and Synox, naturally, trying to keep any weapons from being drawn. It’s not until the others are preparing for bed that he notices anything unusual.

He walks past the open bedroom door once, then, not believing his eyes, backtracks. His eyes were not deceiving him: Aava and Zero are both fully dressed - thank the Empire - but Aava’s eyes are closed, and she is making the most inappropriate noises as Zero kneels behind her on the bed massaging her back.

“Mmmm that feels so good…mmm yeah right there...”

Synox’s eyes widen. He feels a blush on his cheeks. This was unprofessional behaviour, surely. But… their clothes are on. It looks to be a mutual arrangement. And didn’t Synox used to help fellow his troopers relax in a manner not too dissimilar to this? Then again, none of his troopers made those _sounds_ when he did so.

He stumbles away, embarrassed, before either of them have a chance to see him, and spends the entire night trying to classify what he saw under the large bracket of “friendship.”

-

On mission, Synox notices that Aava and Zero have developed some kind of code between them. There are several occasions when they don’t even need to finish their sentence before the other is saying “oh, yeah” (as if it were obvious) and actioning whatever it was. After the upteenth time, he ends up searching “can ganks form telepathic communication with force users?” on Ask Grevious because it seems like the most logical explanation for their sudden synchronicity. Ask Grevious tells him he’s an idiot.

But whatever it is, and whatever is going on between them, keeps them alive until they’re back onboard the Bluebird, so Synox figures he can’t be that mad about it.

-

They go for a drink afterwards. It’s a post-battle tradition that Synox permits in order to boost group morale, but they’re barely half a pink nebula in when Zero shows Aava something on his pad with a low whisper, and when Synox turns his back five minutes later to order some more drinks, finds that they’ve both slipped out of the cantina.

He lets out a frustrated groan and is mid-way out of the barstool to chase them down when Blue taps his arm for attention. Synox looks back at him but Blue hasn’t even looked away from the screen in front of him; fingers tapping away at thin air as if it’s far more important than Synox could ever be.

“Let them go,” he orders dismissively. “They deserve a break.”

Synox looks between Minister Blue and the open doorway, conflicted.

“They’ve only gone to the spa,” Blue says.

Blue opens up another window before him, where a pulsing red dot is moving across the map. He’s tracking them. Of course he’s tracking them. Synox relaxes a little, and falls back onto his barstool with a sigh. Okay. A spa. A spa is okay.

Thirty minutes, three drinks, and several one-sided conversations later, an alarm sounds from the tracker window. Synox startles so noticeably that he knocks a drink from the bar with his elbow. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Blue seems indifferent as he shrugs and opens a couple of windows too fast for Synox to follow. “Zero’s heart rate has increased. Possibly danger, possibly…” he opens another window and laughs. “A blow job. Nice.”

“WHAT?!”

“Relax, Sy. I don’t _actually_ know it’s a blow job. It could be any kinds of sex.”

“ _WHAT?!_ ”

“Well, his heart rate has increased and his penis has been activated, so the logical assumption would be…”

“Not that!” Synox interrupts, although he is definitely going to check the permissions Blue has to that sort of data later because that doesn’t seem at all professional. “That’s… not…” Synox struggles to put words into a sentence as Blue looks at his stuttering with amusement. Eventually he blurts, “They’re _kriffing_?!”

“Well.... yeah,” Blue says, like it’s blindingly obvious. “They’re ‘friends with benefits’. Of course they’re kriffing. What did you think was going on?”

Synox gesticulates wildly. Several more unattended drinks go flying. How is _Blue_ telling him this? _Blue_? Synox cannot possibly be more naive about these things than _Blue_. Synox struggles to come up with a solid explanation for thinking their relationship was non-sexual but then he remembers that _sound_ Aava made while being massaged the other night and wonders why the hell he didn’t put it together sooner that they were capable of being both friends _and_ sexual.

Instead, Synox manages to ask, squeakily and not at all under control, “And you are… okay with this?”

Blue shrugs and sips at his pink nebula. “Zero’s happy, and Aava is approximately eighty percent less likely to kill me, so I’d say it’s all good.”

Synox can’t argue with that. The Bluebird has been a lot more harmonious since Aava and Zero have been doing whatever Aava and Zero have been doing.

“But isn’t he…? Aren’t you two…?”

Blue looks more amused with every half formed question that comes out of his mouth. Eventually, he seems to take pity on Synox and smirks. “You thought that Zero and I were an item.”

“Yes...?”

Blue takes a sip of his cocktail. “Interesting.”

Synox sighs, exasperated. “That’s not a ‘no.’”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Blue asks smugly, “How interesting,” and gets back to whatever he was doing on his pad.

Synox resists reaching over to thunk the little brat’s head against the bar.

-

Synox considers reporting them to Inquisitor Louphan, but it occurs to him that he has no actual evidence aside from Blue’s wry commentary (which no one in their right mind would consider permissable in court) and besides… Blue was right. Things _have_ been good on the Bluebird lately. Synox dreads to think how it would be if he reported unprofessional behaviour between the two (or possibly _three_?) of them. Some of them might be reassigned. Or disciplined. Or spirited away in the middle of the night to some unknown fate.

It’s something that as a dutiful agent of the Empire he should probably report, but as a friend… he is reluctant to do. He would either face a future with a disgruntled, angry, and eighty-percent-more-murderous Bluebird crew, or be assigned a new crew altogether. That’s not to say on some nights he doesn’t dream of a much less stressful life with crewmembers who actually follow orders… but that the reality seems a lot more daunting when he’s actually facing it.

He watches with interest when Aava and Zero come back on board, and wonders when he got used to the sound of Aava’s laughter. It looks like so much weight has been taken from their shoulders in the span of a single afternoon that they’re both practically skipping when they come back aboard.

Aava gently teases Synox for being a bore, and Blue makes Zero cook them up these _amazing_ pancakes for supper, and it’s all very pleasant. Maybe… so long as they all keep performing admirably, there’s no need to report their private activities at all.

Yes, he thinks, as he watches Zero sling a casual arm over Aava’s shoulder and Blue kick his feet into Zero’s lap, the Bluebird is finally at peace, and maybe just this once he can forgo Empire protocol.


	18. 136 Piece String Quartet - Blue/Zero - G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue takes Zero to see a 136 piece string quartet and Zero doesn't hate it as much as he thought
> 
> (no one asked for this other than my subconscious)
> 
> fluffy, pre-slash, plenty of pining, with no warnings except for an excessive amount of old white guys and one small allusion to murder

Zero doesn’t really _get_ the whole “136 piece string quartet” thing until Blue drags him to a concert on Canto Bight.

Everyone’s dressed up in, like, three piece suits and ball gowns and stuff but Blue just waltzes in there in his usual attire with a full armed gank beside him like it’s no big deal. Uh, it’s a Big Deal. Zero feels every single pair of eyes on him as they enter the historic concert hall like they’ve never even seen a cyborg before. He looks around and comes to the disturbing conclusion that this is the least diverse room of people he’s _ever_ been in despite working for the Empire which is… like, at least ninety-five percent white human males. This is probably more like ninety- _eight_. He can count the number of alien species he sees on one hand.

Blue, however, apparently feels right at home as he swans through the gentry taking their seats. Zero hopes that he’s at least leading them to a box or somewhere else discreet, but, nope, Blue takes them straight down into the front rows where literally everyone will be able to gawp at the cyborg. _Great_.

Zero pulls at the join of his helmet anxiously, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic as Blue leads them to their seats. He must hesitate long enough that Blue, halfway down the aisle, actually realises he’s missing his shadow and asks over his shoulder, “You coming?”

Blue doesn’t even wait for him to respond before continuing down the aisle because _of course_ he expects Zero to do as he’s told. Of _course_.

Zero scowls at him behind his visor. “Apparently so,” he mutters, and not so courteously pushes past the gentry that stand between them. He earns several titters for his efforts which alleviates the sting of the situation a little.

Blue dramatically drapes his coat over the plush seat because heaven forgive the man encounters a single speck of dust, and then he immediately makes himself comfortable, with one leg crossed over the other, and one hand raised before him, casually inspecting his nails. Zero sighs and plonks himself down in the seat next to him, with none of the fanfare that Blue employed.

Blue glares at his slumped posture, thoroughly disappointed. “You could at least make an effort.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Zero replies, but nonetheless lowers his leg from the seat in front of him until they’re both planted on the floor like a nerd.

“Yes, you’re here, and somehow already managed to piss off seven different people on the way in,” he says dryly, activating the program displayed on the holoscreen before him.

“Only seven?” Zero replies in a monotone as Blue begins to flick through the evening's program. “I should have tried harder.”

Blue ignores him, instead criticising the choice of the lead violinist, and musing over which movements of Zritten’s symphony the house has deemed palpable enough for this unadventurous audience, and declaring that if they dare to play the “reimagined” variation of the Minuet instead of the original then Zero ought to “blow the conductor’s brains out as to put us all out of our misery” which Zero probably agreed to a little too readily.

By the time the musicians come on stage - all 136 of them - Zero has successfully calculated that there are exactly 544 individuals strings on stage that he could handedly strangle Blue with. He leans over to whisper this fact (and possible threat) to his companion just as the strings begin to play, but in the two microseconds it takes him to move, _everything changes_ - 

With the first note, Blue’s entire posture has changed.

Blue is normally held together with tension and stress, but that single note seems to alleviate it with immediate effect, like the very strings that are holding him together have been cut. His shoulders drop, his back curves, his jaw unclenches… every single muscle seems to relax simultaneously. And the only outward sign of all this immense relief is in the little exhale that passes between his lips. So sleight and so delicate that it can’t possibly be enough to exert the energy that Zero has just witnessed leaving his body. His mouth is agape, a flush forms on his cheeks, and his eyes are wide and glassy and dazed like he’s enraptured under some spell.

With that single note, Blue is transfixed.

Zero pauses, words stuck on his tongue as he’s faced with such a sudden shift in reality.

It takes Blue several notes to even notice Zero’s aborted movement, and his wordless stare now, as his face hovers only inches away from Blue’s cheek.

Blue’s eyes only leave the orchestra for a single second to side eye his companion before being drawn back in like a magnet. “What?” he grunts, low and annoyed, as he continues watching the humans move their little stubby fingers over wires affixed to wood like it’s some kinda miracle.

“I, er…” Zero realises he has no idea what he was going to say, and definitely no idea of what to say now, and after a minute of hesitation, decides to retreat and lean back into his chair as if it was his intention all along. “Never mind.”

He feels Blue give him one last fleeting look of curiosity before being drawn back to the stage.

For lack of anything else to do, Zero watches the musicians before them, and he's gotta admit that this kinda stuffy music is fractionally more entertaining when you can see the cellist’s pit stains, and the conductor’s bald patch, and the violins play so violently during a certain passage that Zero is certain someone is going to lose an eye. He can almost see it like a battle - the conductor leading an army that is desperately trying to keep the gentry appeased. He likes to think he can see the squabbles between the musicians too in the way that they share holostands and raise eyebrows and sometimes lean into a movement in a way that is far too exaggerated to be anything but a mockery of the eccentric first violinist.

He wonders if Blue sees it too, or if he sees something different entirely. Zero looks across at him to see that his wonderment hasn’t ceased - if anything, it’s increased; Blue has moved incrementally closer to the stage, almost swaying in time to the music, his fingers twitching slightly in his lap as if mimicking the players’ fingering on stage.

Blue must see something different than Zero because nothing Zero thought of would have made that soft smile appear on his face. A particular passage causes Blue’s eyes to slip close and his smile widen as if revelling in the sound, and Zero’s insides do something mushy at the sight, before Blue wrenches his eyes back open and zeroes back in on the stage, as if he can’t possibly miss a single flex of fingers or tilt of bow. Of course, Blue needs to absorb all the information he can acquire, even here. Zero tries to suppress his smile at the familiarity of the characteristic in this otherwise foreign situation.

Somehow, Zero makes it through the first piece. And then the second. And then it’s the interval and Zero can’t possibly think of a single thing to say to Blue so before the house lights are even up, he’s climbed over the seat and is running to the exit. He spends the entire twenty minutes pretending to queue for ice-cream that he had actually bought within the first five minutes, and returns to Blue with a rather melted tub of butterscotch. 

At the end of the performance, Zero realises that he has spent more time watching Blue watch the music than actually watching the music, and fears that it might have been painfully obvious. Blue says nothing, just leans against his side with a wistful sigh, still staring at the empty stage, now littered with scattered flowers and empty chairs.

“Did you like it?” he asks, without any of his usual snarkiness. Zero could probably even say he hated it and he doubts Blue would even argue. He would be disappointed though.

Zero leans back in his chair, indulging in the closeness as the crowds around them begin to disperse. “I…” he begins, but has no idea how to describe the mess inside his chest right now, so instead he deflects: “You did.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Blue says with a sigh.

“I know,” Zero says, softly enough that Blue will know he doesn’t mean any offence by it. Zero sees Blue’s hands lying prone in his lap, no longer elegantly twisting and tapping to mirror the music on stage. An illogical part of him screams to lace his own fingers through them, to hold those gentle deft fingers between his own gnarled and ugly ones, as if they could be anywhere near the same. “Did you ever play?” he asks.

Blue sighs dramatically, rolling his head onto Zero’s shoulder as he looks to the domed roof of the concert hall. “No,” he says with a significant amount of disdain. “It wasn’t ‘imperative to my studies,’” he says with lazy air quotes.

“But you wanted to?”

Blue shrugs in lieu of giving a response, which means that he did want to, desperately, and doesn’t want to admit to it.

“You could now,” Zero suggests.

“Urgh, no,” Blue says, crossing his arms, but not moving from his position against Zero. “Then I’d have to be bad at it. Not for long, I know, because I'm a genius and it can't be anywhere near as difficult as they make it out to be... but there would be a learning curve, and I'd have to be bad at it for a bit.”

Zero closes his eyes and steadily breathes out his frustration - something that he has to do approximately thirty times a day to work alongside Blue. “You would’ve been bad at it as a child too,” he reasons, “how is this any different?”

Blue throws his arms in the air as if the answer should be apparent. “Because I would’ve been a _child_. Children are allowed to be bad at things. It’s just embarrassing for adults to be.”

Zero wants to argue that that’s distinctly _Not True_ because adults learn new stuff all the time without embarrassment, but then he realises that for Blue that it  _is_ true _._  Blue can’t afford to be seen as weak in any sense of the word. Not in the position he’s in.

He feels a heavy sigh leave Blue’s body and senses some of the weight of the world coming back onto his shoulders at the reminder that he can’t just do things on a whim, that he has to be concerned with _perception_ , all the damn time. He feels him tense and knows that Blue intends to untangle himself from this compromising position imminently and pretend that he never let his walls down at all, but Zero isn’t quite ready to let go of this moment just yet.

He reaches out and loops his arm around Blue’s waist, keeping him pressed against his side. Blue lets out a little huff of surprise but doesn’t struggle against his hold as Zero thinks over how to say this. “Okay,” Zero compromises, “You can’t play. But you can watch. Any time you want, Blue. I won’t make a fuss next time.”

Blue makes a snort of derision at this statement so Zero reaches out and grasps Blue’s head in his hand, tilting his eyes towards Zero’s visor until Blue knows he’s serious.

“Promise,” he says earnestly. “We can come to the concert hall every week if you want, and I’ll… I’d be okay with that,” he says, swallowing his own nerves. Whatever discomfort he’d felt coming here had melted away the moment he saw how much it meant to Blue. And, hey, if going to these things had the advantage of making Blue as compliant and tactile as he was now, then Zero wasn’t going to complain about that either.

“Seriously?” Blue asks sceptically, but there's a little glimmer of hope in his eyes that he can't hide. “You hate classical music.”

Zero shrugs. “Maybe I’ve got a newfound appreciation for it," he says softly, letting just a little of his squishy feelings tint the innocent phrase. 

Blue reaches out and places one delicate little hand against the side of Zero’s helmet, looking deeply into Zero’s visor as if he can actually see his eyes behind them. For one terrifying and exhilarating moment, Zero thinks that Blue is going to kiss him.

But then, Blue leans back with a smirk and pats Zero patronisingly on the cheek. “Knew you’d come around,” he says.

That _asshole_.

 


End file.
